Northern Star
by unsedated
Summary: She has been perched on a pedestal for as long as she could remember, until she met a man lost in the transition of time. Would they teeter to the edges, or find stability in ruins? (Modern!AU)
1. prologue: if i die young

**Note: All I own is the idea; the characters aren't.**

* * *

Storm clouds raged and the heavens rumbled on a cold, Friday night.

Jack Frost leaned comfortably on the reclined back seat, his legs stretched on the length of the seat with his sister scooted close to his chest. Emma is easily scared by the rain, which fell in buckets as the wind howled outside. He hugged her close, smelling powder and vanilla as he rested his chin on her head.

"Is she asleep?" his mother asked from the passenger seat.

"Out like a light, mom," he mumbled, feeling heaviness warping his consciousness. The day had been exhausting, but Emma enjoyed it. She met their cousins who lived far from the city they live in, and Jack got reunited with Jamie. The two had been attached to the hip since they were born until Jamie's family moved away.

The groan of thunder followed by the strike of lightning decorated the skies. Jack frowned, his arms wrapping unconsciously to Emma. He was glad that the little girl was asleep; she would have bawled at the sound and sight he just witnessed.

His eyes wandered to the front seat, where he saw his parents' hands intertwined atop the stick shift. Emma seemingly inherited her mother's fear of storms, and even as a boy, Jack has always appreciated the affection his parents show to each other. He smiled, fancying the thought of having a love much like his parents'. With that thought, he began to doze off.

Suddenly, blinding light burned his eyes. He heard his mother's screams, and Emma crying as she was jostled awake. Metal screeched metal as Jack curled himself around Emma. Glass shards rained on his back, and the car was flipped twice, then thrice until it hit a barrier. It was followed by weightlessness, like they were airborne. Jack opened his eyes.

"Emma!" he shouted, but was taken by surprise by the force of the car hitting the cold river.

_This is bad. This is really, really bad. _Jack panicked. He waded, his wounds numbed by the cold that seeped through his skin. He swam out of the car through the broken window.

_No—_

Emma – her body – was being carried away by the current. She was unconscious, he could tell, so he let himself be carried closer to air as he paddled. He was getting closer – _a few more kicks_. He reached his hand to her smaller ones—

He felt something sharp pierce his abdomen, his body bypassing Emma's. His mouth parted in pain, bubbled of air escaping as he choked. His lungs felt like they were on fire, and he was quickly losing consciousness—

The last things he remembered were the blinding pain at the back of his head and the free fall.

* * *

**Hello everyone. My hands groan as I (attempt to) write a multi-chaptered story after a long, long time. Welcome to Northern Star!**


	2. 1: to love is duty

**Hello. I took certain liberties while planning and writing this chapter. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to ask. Also, I put this story under Frozen and Rise of the Guardians cross-over but that doesn't mean that hints of other films closely related to F&RotG won't be part of the story.**

_Trapid: Here it is. :)_

**Without further ado-**

* * *

Footsteps graced the carpeted floor outside his room If it wasn't for the quiet of the after-office hour, he wouldn't have heard of the approaching figure. With the only light open in his office, he waited for the silhouette of the person to step out of the shadows. He counted to ten, and unsurprisingly, turned his swivel chair to the left as the intruder slithered in to the room.

The look of anticipation graced her features. Beautiful, he mused, but dangerous. Her beauty is the type of flame that burns everything in its way, a forest fire uncontrolled and unforgiving. He would know that she is a walking catastrophe; how else would he be attracted to her?

"Good evening, my sweet," her voice sounded like honey.

He nodded in greeting. She took it as a sign to close the door and take an unopened bottle of champagne and two flutes at the nearest cabinet from the door. She popped the cork and paced the flutes down, angling the bottle so she could pour and share liquid celebration with him. He sighed, his eyes glancing outside through the glass wall.

Pressure from nimble hands pushed on his shoulder, then replaced by a nose grazing upward to the back of his left ear. Lips pressed where the nose paused. He gripped the sides of his chair tightly as he stood up.

Her face was painted with hurt and confusion. He never rejected her, even with the fury of his father lashing on them. _There always is a first time for everything. _Her eyes are onyxes that glinted against the dimness of the room, and he was entranced by its whorls and fire.

Rejection had never been easy. "We need to end our relationship," he was transformed from a reckless, young man who longed to experience the world to a replica of his father – cold, hard, and unrelenting.

Only the widening of her eyes betrayed the surprise the news brought, then she laughed. "Oh dear, you simply are too stressed. Don't say such non—"

"We're splitting, and that is final," he said, giving no room for argument.

Her eyes narrowed, her voice venomous in betrayal, "Did you not just brush of our relationship for two years—"

"Yes."

Skin hit skin, his head drawn to the left. "How dare you ruin this...this relationship," the sob that was stuck on her throat finally escaped, "We were past this! We have set aside our issues – your wealth and my history. We worked this out before—"

"We did," he answered back, facing her. "We've overcome, but I gave no promise about the future—"

She scoffed, "You have no sense of commitment—"

"I am committing myself to my family and for its betterment!" She was taken aback, the back of her legs hitting the edge of his glass desk. "You have seen how I drove myself to the ground to achieve success for my family, so you have no right to lecture me about commitment!"

"It's different for us!" She pushed him back with a force that surprised him. "It's different! We are different! I shared you my bed, my body, my home. We have love—"

"I do not love you."

The silence that followed was suffocating. He stared as tears begin to well on her eyes. He pained for this woman – the woman who had so willingly taken refuge in his arms. She had been through so much, and was willing to repay him through any means. So he let her in – never too deep that she would burrow and leave a mark, but not simply a graze that could be mistaken as an illusion. He managed to save her because he cared. He only cared.

He watched as she schooled her features into something sinister; it was an image that he knew he could never forget.

She walked towards the door, and not a sign of resignation was evident in her walk – as if nothing transpired in the room minutes ago. "You would receive my two-week notice first thing in the morning."

The sound of her fading footsteps were louder than her screams.

* * *

The last of the scotch dragged down his throat in a slow burn.

Gideon Arendelle placed the glass down, his vision less focused after the last few drinks. Something pounded from inside his head, like a prisoner wanting to escape. Or maybe it was his subconscious trying to knock some sense to him; _don't give in, don't give up the dream you've fashioned yourself. _His vision flashed brown and clear as he faced forward, bottles of alcohol lining the mini bar. He saw his tired face, eyes squinting with bags underneath and cheeks flushed against pale skin. His hair appeared like crow's nest. His coat and tie hung limply on his tall frame, like his clothes were too weary to hold its wearer into one piece.

It was the longest week in his life to date.

Gideon believed himself to be a good man. He had been trained as a child that as an Arendelle, he has to leap bounds and to remain loyal to his family. Every member has a duty, and nothing should stand against their way of achieving it. Since childhood, Gideon has leapt distances as far as his eyes could see, and as he moved constantly, his vision spread. He held the world at the palm of his hand, and he crushed anyone who dared to take it from him. He followed the rules to the tee.

But why should it not be enough?

_I do not love you. I am bound to my family. My life is for them. My future, I dedicate to them._

Some words, when expressed, could still be redeemed. But the words that outpour are the knives that slipped away from our grasps, knives we unconsciously intended for the heart. He knew that the goal is to cut ties and to set the plan for the future in motion.

And he did it, just as expected from an Arendelle. The same time, he chained himself to his family for the last time. The last, because it was his hands that bound him as he took his father's and took the reins of their family legacy. There was no going back.

_Goodbye—_

* * *

Edna Winters met him on a summer morning, when she was presented to their family patriarch for a day of introductions. She found it ironic, how the nascent of such a big shift in her life came on a season completely opposite of her name.

In his eyes, she saw a man who resigned himself to whatever the fates have spindled for the rest of his years. In all honesty, reluctance has been residing in her heart since the proposal came. Old-fashioned, she once commented, but not a rarity in their society. Edna felt that gratitude was more proper, but she could not force it on herself to be receptive of the idea. The man that stood in front of her was a man holding a white flag as he faced his demise. They did not deserve this.

"Ms. Winters," politely, he began, taking her proffered hand and kissing its back.

"Please call me Edna," she answered back, her eyes still wide from the act of intimacy he opted for rather than the common hand shake.

"Edna," he said, his tongue rolling as if her name is a sweet to be tasted, "call me Gideon."

She gave him a small smile, noticing that their hands were still holding. Edna watched as he stared back, his eyes reminding her of a calm sea. How fitting, she mused, that his eyes do not reflect the storm underneath. This man – all decorum and strength – wore the perfect disguise for his future wife.

"We do not need to love each other," Edna curled her hand and clasped it to her other, "We are not obliged to love each other. To feel something, however, is unavoidable. I guess we could...care for each other. Not for ourselves, but for the family and the child or children I would bear for you."

Gideon's eyebrows furrowed, "I am not that cruel of a man to have you lead a miserable life simply because we are not the other's choice. We have time to learn. It will not be good to have the children live in a loveless home."

Edna covered her face with a fan, walking towards the window. "Children, you say?" her lips might be hidden, but her eyes were lit in mischief.

Gideon scoffed , "If you must know, men in our family are virile—"

"I was just joshing you. Don't sweat it," Edna nearly laughed as Gideon's surprise of her amusement turned to an inaudible sigh, "I shall comply with your plan then."

When they parted ways that night, Edna could not deny how his lips lingered a few seconds longer than the first time he kissed the back of her hand.

* * *

It was not difficult to care for Gideon Arendelle.

Edna was aware of who he is. He is the only son of a real estate mogul and a reigning socialite. He was educated on private schools from primary to secondary level, with leadership and sports for extra-curricular activities. He finished his undergraduate and masters' degree with honors, and was a well-commended bachelor prior to their arrangement. He would pamper himself by sailing and swimming, and has been receiving recognition from its circles since he was introduced to them.

But other than his achievements, Gideon is a good man. He is kind, compassionate, considerate, and generous. He did not only tolerated her antics, but also allowed himself to be into her life. While they had never been acquainted prior to their arrangement, he knew more about her than others would.

It was no surprise when she began to have feelings for him, and so she savored the opportunity of their wedding night.

_We need an heir or an heiress, _he once reminded her. But in her mind, Edna was aware that should any offspring result from the consummation of their marriage, for her, it was not simply for duty.

On their wedding night, as Gideon slept on his back while she watched him in sleep, she whispered, "From now on, I will hold you in your endeavors and be the woman for you."

She held the babe in her arms as she quietly snuggled on her chest. Pale skin, a tuft of platinum blonde hair, blue eyes, warm body; Edna's eyes pricked upon seeing one of the most beautiful sights in the world.

"What do we call her?" Her mother asked, excitement in her tone. From across the bed, Edna caught Gideon's eyes.

_I want her name to be symbolic, _Gideon once shared to her. When she gave him the name she had in mind, he wondered why. _We made a lot of promises from the day we met. Won't it be fitting if our daughter's name would remind us of that? _

She smiled as she whispered, "Elsa."


	3. 2: little queen

**Note: The backstory is long, but patience is the key. Several time skips would be found in this chapter. Just giving a heads up to avoid confusion. **

_Trapid: Thank you for your kind words. I really appreciate it. :)_

* * *

They brought Elsa home on Christmas eve.

Edna held the babe in her arms as she suckled from her breasts, feeling the soft puffs of air coming from her nose. She was enamored by the sight of the little girl all curled and covered up; the little angel is all hers, and no amount of presents w\could make her feel any better than of this moment. Edna was fascinated by the little curves that molded against her body, its warmth reaching out to her. How could something so small give such joy?

"She's a quiet child," Gideon commented as he parked in their driveway.

"Definitely yours," Edna teased, her eyes never leaving Elsa. "As far as I know, I was a nightmare when I was a baby. My mother won't stop telling me that Elsa will be the retribution. Guess I got lucky," she ended with a smirk.

"Indeed," Edna caught him turn to her direction, but he immediately moved back. A hint of red began creeping from his neck.

She laughed at his embarrassment. Even if a year already passed since their arrangement, Gideon was still unsure of how to act around Edna. "Aw, don't be shy now."

Gideon narrowed her eyes on her, "I am not. I'm simply giving you as much privacy as I can with your state of undress." He waved his hand to where he approximated the blouse was unbuttoned.

"You've seen me in less, Gideon." Her lips slowly turned upward, "I won't bite if your eyes suddenly lowers."

Edna felt the sucking stop as little Elsa unlatched from herself. Gideon offered to carry Elsa as Edna fixed herself. When she finished, she gazed at her husband, who was looking eye to eye with their newborn.

From the moment Elsa opened her eyes, Edna knew that the girl would be her father's daughter. It amazed her how Elsa would easily calm down at Gideon's presence; her yet unseeing eyes were trying to decipher the direction to which her father is. She remembered hearing Gideon whispering to the child when he thought she was still asleep. _You are mine, my little queen, _he would call her as he whispered her forehead. The moment he did that, Edna was assured that she made the right choice marrying him.

A knock distracted her from her thoughts.

"Mr and Mrs. Arendelle," A coat-wearing man of medium-height was the person who intruded her thoughts. Edna flashed him a smile as he opened the door. Edna took Elsa from Gideon as she exited the car.

"Kai," she greeted happily, "Meet your new boss!" Kai chuckled at the enthusiasm of the lady of the house.

"Kai," Gideon approached them.

Kai lowered his head, "Sir."

"Are our parents already here?"

"Yes, sir. Your mothers have been arranging everything since this morning. Your fathers are in the entertainment room."

Gideon nodded in acknowledgement. Edna sighed, aware that the men would still have errands to accomplish before the small gathering that night. Wanting to take a nap now that exhaustion caught up with her, she stepped towards the house and quickly escaped to the second floor, where the nursery is located next to their room.

Edna designed the whole room, from the pale blue walls to the moon and the stars decorating it. She opted for deep- colored furniture that played with various shades of blue with a spatter of white. Even a small couch was placed in the room so that when Elsa wakes up in the middle of the night, whoever gets to watch her would somehow be more comfortable. She chose blue and white because of the season Elsa was estimated to be born, and was pleased with the results.

She placed Elsa on her crib, laying her small body against the softness of the pillow and the blanket. Elsa remained asleep, unshaken by the change in position. Edna touched her stomach as she watched the rise and fall of her chest.

She did not expect to have Elsa so soon in their marriage. The only night she and Gideon surrendered to each other was on their wedding night. They just had to be so lucky to have it at one shot. The two worked on their friendship after that, with Edna aware of Gideon's issues prior to their marriage. If friendship is what they need so that their child could grow in a normal home, then Edna would have no qualms gaining Gideon's. She told herself that patience would be a necessity; things would escalate the way they should, just as things usually do.

Maybe she tried too hard. Maybe she felt for Gideon too soon.

"You're so beautiful, baby girl. Mommy will love you forever," she promised Elsa as the snow began to fall from the heavens. A tear fell from her eye, tracing tracks down her cheek to Elsa's stomach. She immediately wiped it away.

She would endure for this little babe.

* * *

Gideon felt his back muscles complain as he relaxed on the couch.

Holding a prominent position in the family company and having a one-year old daughter was taking a toll on him. Yes, he could do his job in his sleep, but being a good boss doesn't make you a good father. Even after taking over after his father's retirement, the long hours did not keep Gideon from spending time with his little queen.

He looked at the photo on his desk. As the months went by, Elsa looked more and more like her mother with his coloring. He would not forget the moment when she began smiling and giggling, like how the picture captured her and her mother. _God, they're so beautiful, _he mused, _what did I do to deserve them?_ His fingers reached for the child's face, before it rested on her mother's.

True to her word, Edna never faltered in the span of time they've been together. She is a dutiful wife and a responsible mother, a gracious daughter and a humble employer. Everybody fawned over her, and it saddened him because they all had her, but she was never his.

Thinking about the past two years, Gideon could not help but feel guilt about their relationship – to say that it has been progressing gradually is an overstatement. Edna is still the same Edna who gave his allegiance to him. She never overstepped his boundaries; in fact, if he were to be honest, he would say that she erected a wall beside those he built, just to ensure that they will always be two separate people. Their wedding night was the only night they shared a bed, and Gideon did not have the heart to seek pleasure and comfort from another body. He wants the brunette whose eyes were always on fire; whose freckles he would shamelessly count when he happened to listen to her; whose lips were plump and smiling; whose voice lulls little Elsa at night; whose touch would never fail to make him crumble. While he enjoyed the dangers of passion in the past, Edna is a breath of fresh, warm air after the long winter. His lips turned upward, _winter always gives way to spring._

A sharp knock followed by the opening of the door came as thick folder piled on his table. The intruder's voice was a buzz in his ears; he could always review the files later.

"—Mr. Arendelle," the surprise in the person's voice caught his attention.

Green eyes looked up, and noticed black orbs searching his gaze. "Can you repeat what you said, Pitch?"

The man was about to open his mouth when the door opened again. This time, Gideon saw two pairs of blue eyes watching him.

"Pa...pa!" Little hands clapped as the child wriggled away from her mother. Edna approached Gideon, passing Elsa to his waiting arms.

She was smiling sheepishly, "Sorry, I had to come. I have Gerda running errands and an emergency meeting came up—"

Gideon reached for her, his hands following the curve of her shoulder. "Go ahead."

Edna sighed, "Oh thank you." It was then she noticed the other person in the room, "Oh, you have a guest. I apologize—"

"He's my new secretary, Patrick Black, but we call him Pitch. Pitch, this is my wife, Edna," Gideon introduced. Edna cordially offered her hand.

"Hi, nice to meet you. Call me Edna. Do not let this workaholic drive you insane—"

"Edna, don't tease him," Gideon warned, albeit with amusement.

The man bowed slightly, "It's a pleasure to meet you too, Edna. You can call me Pitch."

As the introductions ended, Edna looked at her watch, her nose scrunching. "I really should go. Call me—"

She was surprised when her hand was tugged and a kiss was planted on her forehead.

Gideon released her, "Go."

If not for Elsa chanting, "Papa, kiss!", Gideon's eyes would not stray.

* * *

The Arendelles did not disappoint.

The party was held at a grand ballroom. Satin, lace, and chiffon brushed against the other. Gems sparkled from hands, necks, and ears and cuffs. Perfume permeated the air. Bodies twirled on the dance floor. Bows reunited with strings and the hands tinkered on the ebony and ivory keys of the grand piano.

She was impressed, but that was not the purpose of her visit.

After ensuring that the Arendelles were safely socializing with their colleagues, she went to the direction of the elevators. She smiled at the hotel personnel who greet her; who would have suspected a well-groomed and well-dressed woman?

It had been so easy for her to get the information she needed. The Corona Group and Arendelle Corporation were hosting a fundraising for selected orphanages across the country. Both couples were moved – she scoffed at the thought – of letting children be abandoned and be swallowed by the system. They wanted to give them a future; they had the means and the influence, so they made the most out of it. With the joint forces of the women behind Corona Group and Arendelle Corporation's heads, they planned the event.

_But then, would it be better if they feel the loneliness of losing their children? What feeling would that event instigate?_

The elevator stopped when it reached the 36th floor. She stepped out, scanning the area for any security detail. Seeing none, she smirked and walked towards the right room.

Reaching room 3621, she paused. It would be more exciting to see the reaction of the person on the other side of the door if she just knocked; the mess she would create might be larger, but at least her thirst for fun would be satisfied. If she simply used the card – which she was able to recover through connivance – then

"Don't even think of going on with what you're doing," a deep voice said from her left.

"Ever so stealthy, Max," she said nonchalantly, but the sound of heartbeat pounded loud in her chest. "Who said I'm going to do anything? Have you thought that maybe I am simply passing by and was fascinated by the door of this particular room?"

The man – Max – wrapped her wrist with his long fingers. He could sense him smirking; her pulse was bounding and rapid. She hissed at him, but he was unaffected by her hostility. "That wouldn't work for me, Gothel."

"You are a heartless bastard. Nothing could affect you," she sneered. "But if you think you can just belittle me, think again."

Max laughed humorlessly, his grip on her wrist getting tighter. "I am not belittling you, but I know you and what you could not resist."

He pressed her against the wall, with both wrists above her head. Gothel tried to kick Max's groin, but his leg easily slipped between her thighs. His head dropped on her shoulder. She was about to scream, but Max suddenly hit her jaw with his head. Her eyes watered from the pain, but before she had her bearings he pushed her to the floor. He was merciful enough not to hit her head on the sharp angle of the corner, but was sadist enough to make her fall on her ankle and break it. Gothel whimpered, dragging herself away from the towering man.

"Stay away from me!" She shouted, but the thick walls deemed the occupants of the room deaf. She cried, "Stay away from me, you fucking asshole!"

Max dropped on his knees and straddled the hysterical woman. He caught her arms again, but Gothel spitted on him. He quickly released one of her arms and slapped her with his ringed finger. Gothel gasped in pain. He lowered his face closer to her. "I would never stay away from you for as long as you threaten any of those little girls my bosses care about so much. Do not mistake me for a morally-upright citizen; I would use any means necessary to teach you your lesson."

One of the doors in the room opened. As if a signal, Max stood up. "Throw this bitch to hell."

Two men in black suits took Gothel by her arms. She screamed, but one of them put a duct tape around the level of her mouth and on her wrists, which were pulled back. She was livid, but Max was not deterred. He watched with steely eyes as she was carried away.

"Thank you for helping us set this up."

Max turned back. Kai was watching him from behind his glasses. "It's the job."

"But it can destroy you."

"I have long been destroyed by it," Max looked back to the direction where Gothel was brought. "The Corona family saved me from the mess that was my life; I would always be loyal to them, and I would keep them safe whatever means is necessary."

"Even take a life?"

Max smirked, "I've done worse."

* * *

"Mama, big ball," Elsa giggled from the seat beside her, her little hand patting her mother's rounded stomach.

"You have your baby sister in there, and you're going to take care of her," Edna ran her hands on her daughter's platinum blonde locks, amused by the way it almost reflected the sunlight. "When mommy and daddy are not around, you're going to watch over her, okay?"

Elsa nodded, "Okay. Like with Punzie?"

"Like with Punzie," Edna almost snickered. Much to the chagrin of the other girl's parents, Elsa coined her nickname because she's having difficulty verbalizing the real one. To the surprise of the adults, the younger Rapunzel responded to the name, and the two heiresses would babble themselves to their heart's desire.

It's been eight months since Gideon told her of the attempted kidnapping of the girls, and not a day that Edna wouldn't be grateful enough for Kai Russell and Maximus Welkers. The two strategically set up the kidnapper, but that was as far as Gideon would tell her. She was uninformed of the kidnapper's identity, and had argued with her husband endlessly about it, but he did not relent. _The person was dealt with. I am just protecting you from the things you should not worry about. _She almost screamed at him in frustration after that; he knew better than to treat her like a damsel.

But she caved in when she got pregnant.

Even when Elsa was safely vacationing with her grandparents that time, Edna could not shrug off the thought of someone wanting to take her baby girl. Days after the event, she was still jittery from the idea of not knowing who to trust with her daughter. She came to Gideon that night, and he expressed the same sentiments.

She knew there are things they were yet to discover about each other, but Edna did not pry. She surrendered to the need for stability – that their girl is safe and so is he – and she took the first step.

She took his lips to hers for the first time since their wedding night. While they openly showed their affections in public, they always played it safe. That night, Edna let go of her inhibitions and just gave in.

She would never regret bringing another child in their world. It would complicate things, but she had long pushed for the optimism, and for struggling to defeat the demons in their lives.

This time, when they named their second born, she knew what to choose.

_Anna, for grace._


	4. 3: be my angel, little dear

**Note: Please be patient with me. That's all I ask for. **

_Trapid: I've read a story in Tangled fanfiction that had human!Max, and I found him interesting there so I told myself _why not try it _then ta-da. He's interesting and challenging to characterize, so I'm glad of your positive response. Why does my writing remind you of Greek myths? I'm simply curious. I loved studying about it when I was a junior. Thank you so much. Your support mean a lot. :)_

**Carry on-**

* * *

"Catch me, Gerda! Catch me!"

Lilting laughter echoed in the corridor of the Arendelle household as a stout woman chased after the child, her hair beginning to loosen from its braid with her trimmings of her dress fluttering against her knees.

"Miss Elsa, please stop running! You're going to trip!" Gerda warned worriedly, aware of the child's tendency to be ungraceful. As much as it pleased her to find the little lady of the house running down the halls like a normal child would instead of spending all her time gobbling after the books she's acquired over time, she did not want her to be in any way harmed. Apparently, the little girl stocked all the energy for times like these.

"I'm not going to trip!" She replied enthusiastically, arms waving as she reached the open door of one of the rooms.

"Daddy, daddy! Snow!" A little voice called from inside the room.

Gerda huffed as she reached her destination. Two heads were huddled together, as if the two occupants of the room were conspiring something the maids would surely have to fix later on. Elsa is notorious for concocting imaginative stories to entertain her father, a trait she inherited from her mother. His father is always the lucky audience of Elsa's antics. She nodded to her employer's direction, who gave her a thumbs-up, before returning back to the kitchen.

"I made a snowman with Gerda and it is big! When Anna is five, I'll bring her outside and make a big snowman with her," Elsa told Anna, her hands waving to illustrate the size of the snowman.

"Maybe we can go outside later so we don't have to wait for three years, eh?" Gideon suggested. Pools of blue lagoon swirled in excitement, the little body almost thrumming.

"Please daddy!" Elsa wrapped her arms on her father's neck, almost hanging on him.

As she enjoyed the little girl's touch, Gideon's eyes lingered on the box on his table.

He received it on mail two mornings ago, but it was yet to be opened. He was prolonging his agony by hesitating to check the contents of the package, a Pandora Box of his demons. He should open it, but it would entail being entangled to the past he willed to ignore. Carrying this baggage could be the Achilles' heel of his family, but ignorance is bliss.

"Elsa?" He called.

"Yes, daddy?"

"What do you want to be when you grow up, my little queen?"

Elsa's face frowned in contemplation. Gideon almost laughed at the sight of her thinking; he reminded her too much of their mother. Suddenly, she gasped in realization. "I want to..."

"You want to?" Gideon echoed. Elsa looked shyly at him.

"I want to be like you."

Gideon remained speechless. _Why, _he wanted to ask her. _Why me? Why not your mother, whose heart is pure and whose lived all her life triumphing her demons? Why want to be like a man haunted by his shadows? _Never in his life had he been more horrible than that moment; no child should want to make the decisions he had to make. He manipulated people to his will, ruined lives to save his skin, kept unspeakable secrets that gnawed him since he silenced them.

But Elsa gave him a winsome smile, and all the clouds that hung over him shied away from that sun.

He positioned her on his lap and pulled them closer to the desk. From their viewpoint, they could see the whole room. The walls were lined with filled shelves as tall and as wide as the room, the reminders of his achievements on the opposite side, and the receiving area at the far end of the room. Lastly, his eyes found the pictures of Edna, Elsa, and Anna on the desk.

"One day," Gideon started, "you're going to have all these. Do you want that?"

Elsa nodded.

"I'm going to count on you, Elsa, okay? Daddy's gonna count on you to study hard and work hard and to take care of Anna. Can you promise me that?"

Elsa nodded more vigorously. "Pinky swear, daddy!" She offered her little finger, and Gideon hooked his to hers.

"Thank you, Elsa," he almost croaked.

Elsa tapped her small hand on top of the desk, "Daddy, will you make a snowman for me?"

Gideon kissed Elsa's forehead, "As many as you want, little queen. As many as you want."

* * *

If there was one thing Elsa is comfortable with, it is being on her own.

At six years of age, Elsa has been such a dear to everyone around her. She is a constant source of entertainment for her sister Anna, who, at three, has been wrecking havoc at their house. She could tell that Gerda wanted to rip her hair off whenever Anna decides to roll on the floor like the dogs she saw at the park, or to yell whenever Anna does something that she was warned not to do. Elsa did her best to keep their nanny sane by spending time with Anna and concocting stories from her imaginative mind; Anna absorbed those like a sponge. Her parents are really proud of her, both as a sister and as a young student. Her love for reading has been very helpful for her to understand quicker than some of her new classmates. Also, upon entering school, her parents discovered that she has the knack for drawing.

Elsa draws anything and everything; from the toys she had in her room, to the characters from the storybooks she owned, the members of their household, the view from her window, and other stuff Anna presented to her. She stuck some of her drawings in Anna's room, which fascinated the younger girl. Whenever she draws, her surroundings would cease to exist and it was just her and her drawing materials and her imagination. It was a gift that her parents wished to hone.

Her social skills, however, left much to be desired.

Elsa liked to play with the kids at the sandbox or to ride the swing with someone pushing her from behind. She wanted to have fun with them, just like whenever she's with Anna. So she tried to reach out – draw with the kids, tell them of her stories, read books beside them – but they just don't get it. She drew nicely, and the other kids would scoff at her. They would tell her that her stories are not real. They would rather spend time outside rather than stay inside for fun. So Elsa just stopped talking to them, left with the thought that the other kids don't like her so she opted not to push it.

One day, while the other kids were outside, she sat by the window and grabbed her crayons and paper. She drew the sun, the trees, the sandbox, the swings, the slide, and the kids. It was a quiet morning; the teachers were having a "grown-up talk, just like what daddy does with Uncle Pitch" in the other room. She was trying to get the swing right when she heard sniffling from the door.

Tears were trickling down her cheeks, and she was covering her mouth with her small hand. In her other hand was something small and white with a tinge of red.

"Are you okay?" Elsa cautiously asked, not wanting to agitate the crying girl more.

The girl shook her head.

Elsa was trying to think of her name, and remembered that she is the newcomer who just started last week. She hasn't talked to her yet, as an unspoken rule. _Nobody talks to Elsa unless they want to fall asleep. _She had seen her talking to the other kids, and Elsa felt maybe a little jealous of the girl because they easily let her in to their circle. But she's crying right now, and it reminded her of Anna,

Elsa slowly approached her, hugging her own things to her chest. As she neared her, she recognized what the girl was holding.

"You lost a tooth."

"It hurts," the voice was garbled, but Elsa understood.

"Do you...do you want me to go with you to the clinic?" Elsa offered, albeit hesitantly.

The girl's eyes widened in delight. Forgetting that she was missing a tooth and that blood still coated her lips, she smiled at Elsa. Elsa smiled back, leading her out of the room and walking towards the school clinic.

As the school nurse ushered the girl to the dentist's cubicle, Elsa sat on the waiting area, her feet swinging. She alternately glanced at the cubicle and the wall clock while nervously playing with her fingers. She could not help but be impatient because it's the first time she's done something for someone outside her home that was...good.

"Hello dear," someone called. Elsa looked up to the dentist, who was approaching with the girl. The tear tracks and the bloodied lip were gone. "What's your name?"

"Elsa Arendelle, Ma'am."

"Elsa," the dentist smiled, "you did a good job helping Tatiana here."

"Thank you," the girl – Tatiana – said.

"You're welcome," she replied cordially.

"Well, you best be back in your classroom. Your break is almost over." The dentist advised. The two girls thanked her again before walking out of the clinic. As they proceeded, Elsa felt a tug on her right hand.

"You may call me Tat," the girl offered.

Elsa wanted to hug her. _She's my first friend! _"Okay...Tooth."

Tatiana pouted, sending Elsa laughing at her expense.

* * *

Tatiana, or Tooth, as Elsa fondly called her, became a fixture in her life from then on.

You meet some people in our lives, and they're just meant to stick with you. Tooth was one of those people for Elsa. Ever since that day, which Tooth coined _the day I lost my tooth but gained my best friend, _Elsa and Tooth had been inseparable. Since her family just moved in town, it became an unspoken agreement that the Arendelles would be their friends. It helped that Tooth and Anna hit off the first time they met; Elsa was surprised that the two actually parted ways because they're so in tune with each other despite the age gap. Well, it did not matter as much when they are allowed to visit each other most of the time.

Years passed, and the friendship of the three girls just strengthened in time.

That Saturday afternoon, the three opted to go to the park. Elsa, being older than the other two, helped Gerda watch over the two. Elsa kept her placid nature as she grew up, while Tooth became the vibrant gem that she is. It was why Tooth was the one chasing after Anna who, at five, is notorious for being the opposite of her gentler sister. As they ran, Elsa kept her eyes on them while Gerda fixed their food on the picnic table.

The park is situated at the center of the village they live in. During afternoons, mothers, babysitters, and children visit there to play or simply to enjoy the warmth offered by the sun. Elsa watched as her sister and her friend chased the other kids, and remembered a time when they envied them. _But I do not like to run after butterflies anymore. I need to study hard and watch over Anna. _

"You seem deep in thought, Miss Elsa," a man's voice commented. Elsa smiled even in surprise.

"Kai! What are you doing here?" Elsa scooted over so Kai could sit. The man, even with his age, appeared tired. It is common knowledge in the family that Kai is one of her father's most trusted men, and with that comes a load of responsibility.

"Your father is lending me to Gerda so she won't get easily get tired," he replied, waving back to Anna and Tooth. "You play with them now. I'll hold the fort."

Elsa shook her head, stray hair tumbling down from its tie. "I like to sit here and draw." She paused, "Kai, how long have you known daddy?"

"I've known him since before you were born, little sweet. I am a older than him for a few years, but I've been in their family ever since he finished studying."

"So you know what he's doing?"

"Most of it, yes. Why the questions, little sweet?"

Elsa lowered her head, "Do you think I can do it?"

Kai watched the little girl; he could only shake his head. He knew Elsa from her birth, and was aware that she is growing to be a serious, young girl who almost never takes a break if not for the two figures who was now rolling on the grass to their direction. Knowing her father, he had an idea of how Gideon's been driving the child to do her best while Edna assisted the girl as much as she can. _But that's the point, she's just a girl. _

"You're your parents' daughter. You can do it and much more." Kai patted her head, and was glad that Elsa gave him a small smile. "Don't worry that pretty head of yours now."

Kai then called Tooth and Anna for their snack. The five shared food like a little family before Anna pulled Tooth for another game. Meanwhile, Gerda and Kai watched the two. Elsa took the time to walk around the park into the man-made lake near it.

She sat in one of the large boulders and watched as the water swirled. Elsa does not like summer that much, but for Anna and Tooth she endured the warm weather. If they didn't drag her out that day, she would've been in her room, spending the afternoon reading and maybe sketching if something sparked an idea. Elsa preferred winter the most, because everything is veiled in white and with it comes peace. She also liked the cookies that her mother bakes and the hot chocolate she would prepare every night' Elsa has a sweet tooth.

She wanted the quiet that winter brought, like the world is keeping a secret and it would be unfolded in the morning of the 25th. She wanted the cold, because it gave her an excuse to watch the fire as it ravaged the wood and leave ashes. She wanted Christmas carols and ice skating and surprises and—

A cry broke through her thinking.

Elsa waited. She heard the crying again. She went down the boulder and walked to her right, where the wailing came from. To her surprise, she found a little baby carrier. There was a bag beside it. Elsa curiously checked on what is inside; bottles were lined up and few pieces of clothes were folded. She heard the wailing stop.

Black eyes, pinkish nose and lips, and pale skin. The baby did not stray his eyes; even when Elsa blinked thrice, even when Gerda called her. The older woman approached her in worry, gasping when she noticed Elsa's object of interest.

"He was crying," Elsa whispered.

Gerda, being caught off guard, couldn't speak, but she noticed an envelope stuck between the baby's blanket.

"What is it?" Elsa inquired.

Gerda replied, "It must be his name."

Elsa read from the card, "Olaf."

The gurgling of the child confirmed their guess.


	5. 4: if only i cannot comprehend

**Note: Thank you for everyone who's reading! I hope you won't get impatient simply because Jack hasn't appeared in the previous chapters. As Yoda put it into words, _Patience you must have, my young padawan. _Feel free to ask questions and I'll do my best to answer them without spoiling what's yet to come. And, do you think I have to change the rating of this story? I have been adding violence in some parts of the story, and you may think that it's not suitable for some audience, so tell me your thoughts about it.**

_Trapid: Well, there's nothing particularly special about Gideon's job. He's an heir to a family company, but with a lot of strings attached. ;)_

_windstruck07: Thank you!_

* * *

"You put the pillow on your lap, then you rest your arms there in a cradling position, just like this," Gerda moved her arms a bit higher so Elsa could see. Elsa watched curiously and shifted her arms.

"Like this?"

Gerda nodded, "Yes, Miss Elsa. Now, don't move. Just sit there. I'm going to place him in your arms. Mind his head." Elsa leaned back to the headboard and relaxed as Gerda transferred the little boy in her arms. His little pink mouth was slightly open as he took calm breaths. Elsa moved her face closer to his, blue eyes wide in fascination. _Anna was not always this quiet when she was a baby. _

The right side of the bed sunk as Anna crept towards them, "Can I touch him?" She didn't wait for affirmation before poking the little boy's arms. "His skin is so soft! I want a pillow like him—"

Elsa replied uncertainly, "Anna, Olaf is a baby."

Anna pouted, "But I want to hug him and squish him—"

"No squishing for you, dear." Another person entered the room. Anna almost yelled in greeting, but Gerda motioned to the little boy sleeping in Elsa's arms.

"But Mommy—" She whined, poking at Olaf's arms again.

Edna scooted to the side of her younger daughter, lifting Anna to her lap, "Olaf is not a pillow, honey. He's a baby, and he's going to cry if you squish him because he doesn't like being squished."

"Okay," She huffed resignedly. "Elsa, I want to stay."

"Sure, Anna. Just be quiet so he can sleep."

The two elder women watched as the sisters observed the little boy in his sleep. Anna would occasionally whisper a bit loudly for Elsa, while Elsa murmured her reply. When the clock ticked nine in the evening, Edna rose up, bringing Anna's drowsy form with her.

"Time for bed," she called, holding the little girl closer. Gerda took Olaf from Elsa's arms as the pale-haired girl stood up from her bed to the washroom.

After waiting for Edna to tuck Anna in her bed, the two women went to the masters' bedroom. Having the nursery installed in the room became an advantage for them. The old crib was taken from its hiding place, as well as the mobile that decorated with snowflakes of varying sizes and shaped. Little Olaf stirred slightly as he was moved down his new bed before finally settling.

Gerda saw her employer looking wistfully at the sleeping child, "Are you alright, Miss Edna?"

Edna smiled, reminiscent of her daughters'. "Yes, I am," but her eyes wavered to the documents on the nightstand on her side of the bed. "I am just worried about this boy. What kind of a person could leave behind an angel like that?"

"If I may, miss. I think whoever left him is just in a bad place."

Her employer's eyes flashed angrily, and it unnerved Gerda to see her as such. Edna Arendelle does not get angry easily, but there is hell to pay whenever she is.

"It's not an excuse. There are better alternatives than leaving a helpless child alone, crying, and hungry near the lake. The lake even! If that child were any older, he could have tumbled down," Edna moved away from the crib, aware that her voice was raising. "Abandonment just never sat well with me."

Gerda has known Edna Arendelle even before her marriage. She had stayed with the woman since she moved out for college, and throughout the years has been in tune of her emotions. If there was one thing that Edna Arendelle never was, it was miserable. She just had the ability to wing sadness and to see the light in every occasion.

"What of the police reports?" Gerda asked, swaying the topic. Edna's shoulders dropped.

"Nothing. I asked Kai to do a search, but nothing came up. Nothing from places in our area."

Kai Russells is one of the best in his job, being a security detail for almost half his life. For him to have come up with nothing says much about the person who left Olaf.

Gerda never fancied herself to be a family woman. Born from parents who barely made ends meet and orphaned at a young age after her mother packed her bags and left and her father – well, nobody told her about having a father, Gerda could only be thankful enough for the Arendelles to feed her, dress her, take her under their roof and give her a job. She wanted that child to be given the same chance as she was given.

"Miss Edna?"

The other woman slightly turned, acknowledging her inquiry.

"Have you thought...maybe...maybe you could adopt him?"

Edna closed her eyes, "I would have wanted to, really." She sighed, "but now is not a good time."

Edna's eyes dropped at the documents. As if reading Gerda's mind, Edna gazed back at her. "But I promise you, Olaf will be in good hands."

When Gerda left, Edna slid her phone out her pocket. Browsing her contacts, she stopped at a particular number and pressed the call button.

"Hella?"

"Good evening, Phil. May I speak to Mr. North?"

Silence followed from the other end of the line. Edna heard a rattle and winced; the phone must've been dropped. Suddenly, a booming voice talked. "Edna Winters! Ha, I'll know that voice anywhere! Let me grab old, wrinkly Nicholas for ya."

"Who are you calling old and wrinkly!" She heard someone saying distantly from the other line. "Excuse my buffoon of an assistant. Who is calling this late in the night?"

"Sorry, Mr. North."

"Edna girl?"

Edna smiled against the phone, "Hello, Mr. North."

The man chuckled in delight, "It's been too long. How can this roguishly handsome man help you?"

Edna sighed in relief, "I'm wondering if you can take in someone for me. My daughter found him this afternoon, and Kai found nothing on him. He's a little boy, around 6 months I estimate, a bit small for his age. We think his name is Olaf..."

* * *

Dark eyes scanned the alley, which appeared dingy and sinister. Trash bins were opened and toppled down. Puddles of dark water and fecal matter littered the ground. Smell of rottenness hung in the air. It was night time, almost midnight, and the full moon hung on its seat against the sea of clouds.

"How fitting of you to live near this place," the man approaching mused loudly.

"What, are you uncomfortable with the stench now that you wear these?" Another figure crossed the distance between them, tall and slender against the moonlight. The first person was grabbed in the lapels of his coat. "No brand of clothing could cover the rot from within."

"But I wear perfume, and it staves off the smell," his nose scrunched, "What can you say for yourself?"

The woman sneered, "I got better things to do than pretend to be some pretty face."

The man laughed, "Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?"

A palm smacked the man's face.

"You hit like a sickly, frail woman," the man growled, his cheek aching from the slap he received.

Their bodies inched closer, and he felt something sharp against his torso. "I could gut you right now and spread your innards in every fucking corner of this town after delivering your head on a platter to be served to that fucking Gideon—"

He brushed the woman's hands off him. "You really have a flair for description, dear sister. Perhaps you should pursue a career in writing while I get my hands dirty for you."

The woman huffed, walking towards the closest puddle. She stomped her feet on it, causing muddied water to splash. Some droplets hit the man's coat. He rolled his eyes on her childishness.

"Have you done what I asked for?"

"She received the mail in her office this morning."

The woman turned, "And?"

"Mr. Arendelle has been out of the country since the start of the week. He will come back the day after tomorrow. Edna—"

The woman gave him an appraising look, "You call that bitch Edna now?"

The man feigned coughing, "Edna," he emphasized, "I am certain, would not confront him publicly, but if they fight, I'll know."

Her fists came, but he was able to catch it. "You have feelings for that bitch! Admit it! I should have killed her—"

"You will not harm her!" He yelled back.

"Do you actually expect her to come running to you? You are the key to ruining their marriage! If you think she'll beg for you to be her knight in shining armor, then you're delusional."

He pushed her to the graffiti-designed wall. The woman tried to claw her way out of his arms, but to no avail. He waited for her to tire of hitting. She did not last, slumping as tears began to form in her eyes. The man did not touch her, knowing how averse she was in contact, but he had to make her listen.

His eyes were angry, but pleading. "I did not have second thoughts when you asked for my help, so do not call me delusional! She will love me if that's the last thing she'll ever do!"

He punched the wall beside her head to get his point across.

* * *

Elsa stepped into her father's floor in his office building, with Kai holding her hand.

Her father's office is situated on the 16th floor of the company building. It wasn't her first time going there, but Elsa was fascinated by the endless corridors to pass by before reaching her father's room. The place would be fit for a game of hide and seek – her, Anna, Tooth, and Olaf when he could already run.

Kai let her hand go, so she went on her way. She was surprised to find that the rooms she passed by were vacant; people in suits and skirts usually get in and out of the rooms.

"Elsa?" Someone called from the end of the corridor.

"Uncle Pitch!" She whispered loudly (_Never shout whenever you are in your father's office, _mom said). The man opened his arms for the girl to be caught in an embrace.

"What are you doing here?"

"Visiting daddy. He's going to come with me to buy books today."

Pitch let the girl down, "That's really great. I wish I could join you, but I have to do things for your father."

"I'll just let you borrow what daddy buys for me," she replied smartly.

"Thank you Elsa," long fingers brushed blonde hair that escaped its braid. "I need to go now, but your daddy's in his room."

Elsa hugged the man's leg, "Goodbye, uncle Pitch!" She scampered away.

As she neared her office, Elsa walked slower, preparing to surprise her father. She noticed that his door is open, which would make it easier for her to proceed with her plan.

"_Have you not learned your lesson?"_

"_What lesson? To be mad without you? Please, Gideon—"_

"_You were supposed to stay away!"_

Elsa stopped in her tracks. Her father was mad. He is rarely mad, and when he does, he never shouts. Her father shouting alarmed Elsa. She had to move out and leave; if her father discovers her accidentally hearing what he was saying—

"_I won't stay away because I'm yours! I would always find a way—"_

"_You're delusional."_

"_I am not! They stole you from me! Run away with me, please! Leave her. Leave them."_

Elsa gasped, her eyes widening in fear and confusion. _What is she talking about? _Despite that, she chanced to see what is happening inside.

The woman and her father were on against the wall, the woman's hands fighting with her father's. He appeared to be pushing her, but she jumped into him. Her father was taken by surprise by the weight. Elsa saw as her lips touch her father's face. Her father spat at the woman, but she punched him. Her father staggered back because the sudden attack, and was not given the time to recover when the woman jumped at him again and held on his throat.

"Daddy!" Elsa screamed, earning the attention of the occupants of the room.

"El-sa—" her father choked, "Ru-un—"

Out of nowhere, Elsa was pushed to the side as two security personnel together with Kai came. They grabbed the woman from holding her father. Kai returned by her side, hiding her face against his body as the woman was being brought out. Kai covered her ears so she would not hear what the woman was saying.

But she heard it, and she would never forget it. _I'll kill you if I can't have you! I'll kill you all!_

Kai's roughened hands were replaced by her father's. Gideon held on to her, burying his nose on her hair. Father and daughter held on to each other as Elsa cried on his shirt. Gideon caught Kai's worried gaze, and motioned for him to have the car prepared.

"Daddy, she hurt you," Elsa sniffled, touching her father's sore neck.

"I'm okay, little queen," he lied; he could still feel the woman's sickening touch. "I'm so glad she didn't hurt you. I'm sorry you had to see that."

Elsa hugged again.

"The car's already downstairs," they heard Kai said. Gideon scooped Elsa into his arms as he stood up and walked towards his private elevator.

"Kai," Gideon started when he felt Elsa falling asleep in exhaustion. _I have to keep them safe._

"Yes, Mr. Arendelle?"

"Contact Corona. Tell him...we need Max."


	6. 5: the fates have decided

**Note: I still don't own F&RotG, but I hope you enjoy this chapter. It was difficult to write, but I hope my imagination was able to wing it. Some tips, perhaps?**

_Trapid: Things are getting crazy. Hold tight. :)_

* * *

The door closed with a click instead of the bang he was expecting. He almost cringed at the seemingly gentle act.

Gideon followed Edna with his eyes, which shone pale green against the darkness of the study. Her slight form was a smudge against the backdrop of hardbound books. She stayed a few feet from him, her fingers tickling the spine of long-forgotten tomes. Gideon watched her, letting the minutes pass by.

She was seething in anger, he reckoned. Gone was the teasing disposition of the woman he spent the last nine years with. She had always been the river that led to his stormy seas, but time transformed her. The rocks that built their relationship littered the rapids that their path has come across. He could imagine the pull before the boat succumbed to the rolling waves. The end is a hundred feet drop to broken bones.

"How is your neck?" Her voice was steady, but with undertones of wrath.

"Sore," he replied honestly, as if trying to earn a smidge of trust. "How is Elsa?"

"Shaken, but alright. She had difficulty falling asleep. I let Anna sleep with her tonight." Her tone remained clipped.

Gideon stood up from his swivel chair, crossing the distance halfway between them. Edna's hand froze on one of the books, skin stretching on her knuckles tightly.

"You weren't supposed to know it this way," he started.

Edna laughed humorlessly, "Don't treat me like an imbecile. I was never supposed to know anything."

"That's not true," he defended. "I had it under control."

"Apparently, you failed to cage your pet," she spat

"I have no relationship with the woman in question."

"She's thinking otherwise!" Edna faced him, her face contorted in disbelief. "Nine years, Gideon. Nine years and the only thing I asked of you is respect to this family, especially to your daughters!"

"It just happened! I have no idea she will come after me! This mess was cleaned up years ago!" He bit back. "I cut her out of my life when I married you, believe me," he pleaded, hands reaching for Edna's shoulders.

Her head dropped, hands massaging the bridge of her nose, "You lied," she whimpered, holding back tears.

"To protect you, I had to. She would only hurt you and the kids—"

"You still lied," Edna sniffed, wiping the first of the tears that fell. "What other omissions do you have lying around, huh? That she was the person who came after Elsa and Rapunzel when they were younger? That she was the intern you chased like some bunny—"

Gideon's eyes widened in shock. _Nobody was supposed to know. Did anyone betray us? _"W-What?"

Edna's hands took the folder placed in one of the shelves and slammed it against Gideon's shoulder. Its contents spread on the floor, and in the moonlight, Gothel's face shone like a predator reaching its prey. They painted a portrait of lust, clothes missing as hands lingered on the crevices of her body and her mouth sucking its way down his torso. Pictures of the years they spent in the office were also present. He recognized some of the most recent photos; the surveillance team were able to get shots of Gothel from the hotel cameras years ago. These were presented to him before Gothel was dealt with.

"How did you get these?" Gideon kneeled down to collect the files. "These are meaningless already. They were taken years ago—"

"It was sent to my office two days ago. There was no name."

Gideon put the folder on his desk. He growled, his fist hitting the wood of his desk. "Edna, whoever sent you this just wants to retaliate to me or to you for some meaningless reason."

Her chin lifted in the air, "I think they're trying to make a point."

_No, don't—_

"Why did we even get in this agreement before? Gosh, this is stupid," Edna bit her lip. "I'm so, so stupid and naive."

"Do not even dare to question our marriage—"

"Nobody said anything about marriage," she croaked out. "Let everybody take our marriage for all I care! It's just paper and some words! But you, you just had to be so good to me." Edna thumped her chest, "God Gideon, I love you."

He stammered, his heart seemingly skipping a beat. He could not breathe, "Edna—"

"I love you so much, and I've been waiting for nine years. Then this has to happen, and it showed me that I do not know you. I fell in love with the man my parents saw, the one they chose for me to marry, but that's not you. You're everything I haven't expected—"

His arms pulled her close, lips biting and teeth almost clashing. Tongues danced and lashed and Gideon's fingers steadied Edna's head against his. Pulling her down, he let her straddle him as he lay flat on his back. He felt her fingers pull on his hair and her nails rake down his chest. She tasted like fear and sadness and tears and the hurt of it all crawled under his skin and pressed on his heart – a suffocation. She trembled against his touch, sobs finally coming. Edna pushed him and rolled away.

"I really hate you right now, Gideon."

His heart broke for the first time.

* * *

She stayed in the garden all night, braving the chill. Her thin nightclothes covered her sparsely, but she was numb to the world. Eyes unseeing and skin unfeeling, she sat and stared against the darkness of the night. But he came to her, blankets in tow.

They rode to the night 'til the crack of dawn. When he fell asleep with his face on her bosom, she cocooned him with the warmth of quilt. Bidding farewell and telling her children and Gerda that she needs to be in another area for around two weeks, she drove to the unknown.

* * *

"I miss mommy," Anna complained miserably, throwing one of her dolls on the floor.

Elsa placed her book down, motioning for her sister to come. Anna rested her head on Elsa's lap as small fingers smoothed out strawberry blonde locks. It had been ten days – Elsa had been counting – since their mother suddenly packed her overnight bag and told them that she has a trip. They haven't received any call from her. Her father had been looking for her everywhere, and Kai was being driven to the edge by Gideon's irritability. Their lives had been a chaos since her mother left.

Elsa knew that her parents fought, but her mother told her that her duty first and foremost is to watch over Anna when their parents could not. These days, his father had become a mad man scavenging the country in search for their mother. She wanted to comfort him too, and so she would visit him sometimes, but her father would have that look that shows he wasn't really there so she would only hug him and walk away. She would go to Kai or Gerda and hug them too. She hasn't slept on her own since the night their mother left; only she could stop Anna from crying before sleep.

The door in their room opened and Tooth let herself in.

The girl – with dark hair and vibrant eyes – sat beside her. "How are you today?"

Elsa could only sigh.

Tooth had always been her closest confidant. Besides Anna, who failed to be serious half the time, Tooth became her closest confidant. The other girl knew how to cheer her up with a simple story or some crazy antic.

"My nana told me she left her family because they have no money," Tooth said out of nowhere.

"Mommy has money. "

"My nana went back. She told me her family is what makes her happy." Tooth shrugged, "Auntie Edna will come back. You are here. Your daddy is here. Anna is here. She will come back, just like nana."

Elsa's eyes became pooled with tears. Tooth hugged her and let her cry on her favorite dress.

* * *

Dinner became a quiet affair.

It was the eleventh day of Edna's 'trip', and no one has heard a word from her. Gideon wished for the help of his in-laws, but they already passed away a few years prior. Kai was the only person searching with him; he almost hauled half the work in the office to Pitch, which the other man did not question.

The days have been lackluster without Edna.

Sometimes, he wanted to hide from their children. Both girls – especially Elsa – reminded him a lot of their mother. He could not stop her words from playing in his head. _I love you. I really hate you right now. I love you. I love you. _He could still remember how pliant and beautiful she was with him, and no amount of pain could take the image of such an angel away.

Suddenly, Kai rushed in the dining area. "It's Mt. Clarens Hospital from the other city. They have her."

His blood ran cold.

* * *

Elsa was surprised by how fast Gerda was able to wrap her and Anna in thick, wool sweaters and pack essential belongings in their bags. The woman had been going in and out of their house, checking and rechecking at least three times. Outside the car, his father and Kai had been taking calls. If she strained hearing, she could distinguish her father's commanding tone.

She wanted so bad to cry, to call Tooth and tell her that her mommy is not okay, that her mommy may not come back like Tooth's nana. Her father's frantic reaction scared her; nobody fazed Gideon Arendelle until now.

Even as her father, Kai, and Gerda went in the car and began their drive, the tension remained thick in the air. Nobody dared to speak, or even open the radio. Anna was already slumbering, but Elsa felt hyperaware of everything around her. She hated the rain, but its sound was the only company she could rely on.

Mt. Clarens Hospital, which was an hour away from their home, became a 40-minute ride. As soon as they reached the double doors of the emergency area, Kai let them out. Gerda carried Anna's sleeping form while holding one of Elsa's hands, while their father ran amidst the bustling sea of people, getting lost into it as soon as he stepped in.

She tugged Gerda to the free chairs, and had the two of them sit. There was chattering and buzzing everywhere, harmony and dissonance at an impasse. Elsa heard crying from the far side of the room. Someone coughed from her left, while frantic beeping played from her right. White and blues and red washed her vision. A smell of something clean and sharp and rusty mingled in the air. Elsa could not grasp what is happening; she buried her face on Gerda's side.

A few moments later, she felt someone sat on her side, and arms scooping her to one's lap. She recognized her father's scent and snuggled. "Where's mommy?"

"The doctors are with her, little queen. They're already fixing her."

Elsa sat up, kissing her daddy's cheek. The earlier ruckus seemed to die down. She went off her father's hold, standing and pacing around, keeping distance between the curtained sections. She kept on walking until she reached near the double doors they entered earlier. She observed as it swung occasionally, as if in a trance.

"Incoming!" she heard someone shout. Moving back, Elsa almost tripped, but was able to catch herself.

A gurney was rolled in; Elsa felt something jump up her throat. Even with her height and distance, she could see his face. _Too pale, too...white. _Everything about the boy is pale – head with strands of hair lighter than hers, shadowed and sunken lids, bluish lips, thin arms and hands, and pale pale skin. Even if he looked like death warmed over, Elsa could not take his eyes off him. The nurses and doctors worked swiftly around him, moving him like a doll and inserting tubes and needles and wires wherever they reached and calling out orders. His heart might sputter in the cold but for Elsa—

_He's so beautiful._


	7. 6: the walls have ears

**Note: Still own nothing. Tell me if the story's becoming dragging. I'm simply following a working outline (to which I've been swaying on for some details I wished to highlight). Do not hesitate to ask questions or to share your suggestions. Enjoy! :)**

_Guest: Yes. Thank you for reading!_

_Trapid: Gideon never cheated on Edna with Gothel. The only time I've depicted their relationship was during the first chapter, which was set before their marriage. Thank you for reading!_

* * *

The room was bathed with the afternoon glow.

Pitch never liked the light. Even in his childhood, he was averse to mornings when the sun would rise majestically in the sky. In his room, he rarely opened the main light, opting instead for the reading light near his bed. He would hide under the blankets and spend time at the basement of their old house. Born as his mother died, nobody really ever coaxed him out of his shell.

Then his father died, and an elder half-sister he never met came to his life.

Gothel practically raised him. Two orphans left to face the world, it was a wonder he was able to attain his achievements in life. He owed her everything – from the clothes on his back to the roof over his head to the money he earned. And all these, he would not gain if Gothel left her for the hounds in the streets. This responsibility she performed led to his loyalty, even if it means staying by her side as her psyche became too damaged to perceive the world.

He bore the brunt of her wounds, slathered the balm, and almost choked her with the antidote for the poison that was love. He had committed himself to her cause – _avenge or die trying _– and had allowed her to lie languorously on the couch of their measly abode or concoct her plan to gain her old lover back. He played the perfect subordinate to the budding Gideon Arendelle as he juggled with his sister's problems.

But he met _the _woman – the sunlight that lingered, the brightness that never waned, and the warmth that slinked into the cold chamber that secured him from the world.

Even in her deep sleep, she continued to shine for him.

Pitch visited upon Gideon's request. The man did not want to leave his wife, so he contacted Pitch to bring the job to him. He had been working nonstop from when Pitch came in the morning, which was advantageous since Edna is situated in a nifty suite. Hours passed and Gideon wasvstill with another employee on the phone.

God forbid he would pity his employer and have feelings for his employer's wife at the same time. But it happened.

Tasked to sit on the couch that served as a makeshift bed for Gideon, Pitch observed Edna. Gideon would not talk about her condition, only that she is stable as reported by the doctor and that it would take some time for her to grace them with her exuberance.

He craved to touch her, embrace hold, just hold her in any form he can. Throughout the years he's worked under her husband, Pitch discovered a friend in the lively Edna Arendelle. The woman is a ray of sunshine whenever she visits their office, and working closely with Gideon, Pitch had been invited in their humble abode frequently. She grew on him with her kindness and spiritedness; it did even hurt as much when he finally felt it.

Caving in to his desires, he walked towards the bed. Assuming Gideon to spend some time dealing with the caller in his personal line, Pitch cradled Edna's hands to his. They were slender and long, hands of a pianist that played them sonatas of her own whenever the family have friends coming over. He could feel the callous on her fingers, reminded of the beauty of her artworks. The pads of his hand felt for her knuckles, ultimately reaching for her rings.

Years into their marriage, tension is still present between the Arendelle couple. While time has aided in developing their relationship to something akin to close friendship, it only seemed to contribute into repelling the issue of their commitment to each other. While unaware of the details of their personal life, Pitch has observed the affection of the couple for each other, and has already caught them acting on it. Whether they come together for their physical or emotional reasons shouldn't be his concern, yet he couldn't deny it how his heart cracks whenever the two would show the world of their unspoken connection.

It is a hopeless love, he is aware, but he will fight for his lost because the fight is not only for him. It is also for his sister and her desires. For now. Rome wasn't built in a day, after all.

Saddening as their fate appears, Pitch could do nothing but watch over her.

He lifted her hand to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss in its back with his lips lingering as he inhaled the scent of her skin and of the bleach the room was cleaned with. He placed it back quickly, turning his heel as he sat back on the couch.

The door opened, and a small bob of blonde entered the room followed by a larger man.

"Hello, Uncle Pitch," Elsa greeted, smiling at him. Pitch let his lips quirk upward.

"Hello, little queen," he ruffled her hair as she passed by her, peering towards her sleeping mother. The little girl took her mother's hand and pressed her palm against her cheek. She went back to his father before walking outside, where Kai would meet her for their accommodations.

Gideon remained leaning against the doorf rame, his lean, strong body seemingly coiled. He was gazing at his wife with an unreadable expression.

"Is something the matter, Mr. Arendelle?" Pitch initiated.

Gideon directed a piercing look back at him, "Nothing."

* * *

Elsa swung her feet back and forth as she laid her sketchpad open.

It has been two days since her mother's accident. Sometimes, Elsa would come to her room to sit down and just draw. While she would typically draw princesses in their castles with their beautiful dresses and fancy crowns, these days she could mimic the features of the dying boy he saw at the emergency room.

The last time she held her drawing materials was during their first night as soon as she settled in her cozy hotel bed. She drew him and breathed him life in gradients of black and blue. She drew him a house – a cabin situated amidst the snowy forest, slopes of white and gray in the background. She drew him skating; in his face, one could see a hidden mischief and an obvious exhilaration.

The left side of the couch sunk, and a small body pressed itself against her back. Elsa froze, hugging the sketchpad immediately to her chest.

"Aww man, don't hide it. You drew Jackie boy well!" The intruder whined.

"Excuse me," Elsa murmured, rising from her seat and walking as fast as her small legs could carry her. _Where is Kai?_

Another set of footsteps echoed hers, "Wait up! Don't go!" A hand clasped her forearm, stopping her tracks. Blue eyes lifted to her right, where it met brown.

Brown eyes sparkled in glee as she finally paid him attention. Naturally tousled brown hair and round cheeks and larger ears distinguish him from the boy in her drawing. Elsa blinked rapidly, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry I drew your friend," Elsa bit her lip in nervousness. _I feel like that creepy old woman Gerda told us about._

"It's okay, really. Jack won't care. He likes art," the boy shrugged. "I'm Jamie. Jack's my cousin," he smiled.

"It's nice to meet you, Jamie. I'm Elsa," she offered a hand. Jamie frowned in confusion. Elsa moved her hand back, but Jamie finally caught on and shook it.

"You're a weird girl, Elsa," Jamie mused. "Weird, but pretty. Jackie boy will like you."

Pink tinged her cheeks. "I saw my parents shake people's hands. I just did what they do."

Jamie nodded his head in understanding. His nose scrunched as he thought of his next question. "So Elsa, how did you know my cousin?"

Blue eyes became downcast, her own frown surfacing. "I saw him downstairs when they brought him in."

A sharp gasp came from Jamie. "D-Did he...D-Did he really...die?"

Her ears piqued in surprise. While some children are unable to process death when it came, Elsa has been exposed to it. Her parents have allowed her to be privy of the reason why her grandparents died years ago, and was grateful for the opportunity to understand. The dead stopped living. They ceased to function in this world. With Jamie talking to her in the present, it only meant that the pale, beautiful boy lived through the night.

"I don't really know, Jamie." She shook her head.

Silence enveloped the two children as they stood in the middle of the hallway. Kai is still missing, and her father is still talking to her Uncle Pitch. There really was nothing to do.

"Do you want to see Jack?" Jamie suddenly offered.

Elsa's eyes widened. "Is it okay?"

"I could just tell them you're his girlfriend," he teased, earning a smack on the arm from Elsa. Jamie guffawed. "We can just sneak in. If you walk fast enough, maybe they won't see us."

Her heart thudded loudly in her chest. _I'm going to break the rules! _As unopposed (almost) as she was in rule-breaking whenever Anna strings her along, Elsa is uncomfortable with it. In the end, curiosity reined it. Elsa nodded and let Jamie lead the way.

Jack's room was on the other side of the hallway, where the children were admitted. Stealthily, Jamie avoided the hospital personnel and went expertly on his way. Reaching the door, he rested his ear against the door, listening for any foreign sound from inside.

"Jack is alone inside. I'll wait for you here. If I knock twice, it means someone is around the corner. Got it?" Jamie instructed. Elsa was amused by the seriousness in his tone, but decided to just trust him.

"If you see a man that looks like him," Elsa took a small pouch from the folds of her dress to present Jamie with Kai's picture, "knock three times."

The room smelled similarly like her mother's. The walls were painted blue, and more machines were inside the room. Wringing her hands together, she approached the left side of the bed. Elsa climbed the chair and sat on the empty space beside the body on the bed carefully.

While they were waiting for her mother's doctor to call his father a few days ago, Elsa asked Kai about the basic tools and equipment present in the hospital. The man conjured a file (she swears Kai is a walking encyclopedia) and showed her pictures and descriptions of her request. As she gazed at the boy in front of her, she recognized the tube to help him breathe (like the one she saw them shoving down his throat that night), the tube that gave him food, the other that gave him fluids and the bags that contain them. His hair, paler than hers that Elsa was unsure if it is his real hair color, peaked from the bandages wrapped in his head. He is a canvas of reds and blues and greens.

"Beautiful," she whispered. Elsa once asked her father what he thought of his mother, and he told her she is beautiful because there was no other sight in the world he would want to rest his eyes on forever but her. She's a child, and Gerda called such childish frivolity infatuation. If this is infatuation, so be it.

She touched his hand, which was almost icy. She rubbed her palms together and engulfed his, a futile attempt to make him feel warm.

Pretending that they're meeting under normal circumstances, where she's a third-grader having a new seatmate in class, she spoke.

"Hello, Jack. My name is Elsa."


	8. 7: the die is cast

**Note: Owns nothing.**

_Thank you for reading, AliceInNeverland and Trapid! :)_

* * *

Cold air nipped his nose as he stood at the rooftop of Mt. Clarens Hospital. With his pensive expression and rigid posture, Gideon cut an intimidating figure from a distance. The marks of sleeplessness and wariness were almost indiscernible in the moonlight, unless one knew him well. The sky was full of stars, but it was not enough to distract him from his thoughts.

Left to contemplate, Gideon surrendered to the core of the issue. He prided himself to be skilful in compartmentalizing his personal and professional life, but the past few years served as a challenge, especially at keeping check of the woman that has relentlessly attempted to ruin his family.

_It wasn't an accident._

"I assume you've already gone to every detail of tonight's conversation."

Gideon gracefully turned from his introspection and smiled at his newly arrived companion. Dressed in his office wear and seemingly ragged at the edges, the man returned the smile tiredly. In a few strides, Gideon crossed the distance between them and gathered the smaller man in a warm embrace.

"You've lived interestingly while I was away," the man greeted.

Gideon shook his head at his friend. Emmanuel Moon has been travelling the world since he opened his eyes, and his feet would easily be swayed by the tides of excitement whenever he was offered to go to places. Noticing the lines that etched on his friend's face, Gideon thought that his fatigue ran deep to his bones. It's difficult to always be leaving, always be running away.

"You've seen the world, Manny. You have more stories to tell than me," Gideon commented, trying to lighten the mood.

The man – Manny – tapped Gideon's back, "We'll have time for that. First, tell me what I missed."

They stayed by the rails, with a view of a hundred feet drop from where they stand. Manny dropped his briefcase on the floor as he watched the night. Gideon's face searched his friend's, questions at the tip of his tongue, but he held them back. His friend would never stop travelling without a purpose; there was a reason why he was here, his request aside.

"Edna got involved in a car accident three days ago. Prior to that, some pictures were sent to her by an unknown source. And I've noticed things that led me to believe that the events from the time I married my wife are related."

Manny's brows furrowed in thought. "Have you contacted Max?"

"Not yet. He's out on commission." Gideon sighed. "This is so fucked up."

"But not necessarily hopeless." Manny defended, " You can still make it right with Edna—"

Gideon gritted his teeth, hands massaging his temple, "She is pregnant, and I drove her to leave. This is the only time she acted on her frustrations about this marriage, and even my shit couldn't leave her be."

Manny turned to face Gideon, gripping his arm. Albeit slighter in stature, Manny was able to shake Gideon. "She came to this thing with an open mind, Gideon. Give your wife some credit. You've been married for almost ten years."

The wind blew, ruffling their hair and kissing their coats. "Did I make the right call, when I let Gothel live?" Gideon asked, like a child lost and alone. His decision to let the woman be killed drove him to an unending cycle of doubt, because he chose not to even if he was well aware that Max can stomach having his hands tainted. Just one love – one regretful love – and his morals had been shaken to its foundations.

If he were to be given the chance to go back in time, he would have stayed away from her.

"Did you think you did?" Manny reflected.

_A life in my hands. A life to tear apart. A life to become payment for the hardships it caused. A life for the lives almost lost._

"I did," Gideon nodded. "But I have to see it to the end."

The familiar glint appeared in Manny's eye, "What's the game plan, captain?"

* * *

She woke up in the evening, when the lights were finally dimmed for the day and the bustling died down in the hallways. Her cold hand immediately dropped on her abdomen, and stinging began to prick the back of her eyes. She gasped, tugging her hair as she bit her lip to prevent the sobs from coming.

She only ran away to blow off some steam and to gain perspective. To do so was reckless, but she was beyond reason; her thoughts were in haywire and her emotions were all scattered. She had been wary in fear for the last month that when the news came, she was unable to fully digest it. It had been five years. The pictures she received were the last things she needed.

"Edna?" A muffled voice called from her left.

Puffy eyes glanced at the figure that sat by her side. His stance exuded worry and surprise. Edna looked away, unable to verbalize her feelings.

The blanket fell back to the chair as Gideon stood and wrapped his arms around her.

They were a tangle of limbs and bleached sheets and tear-streaked cheeks. Her head lay on his collarbone, wetting his shirt. She was a blubbering mess of regret as her grip on his back tightened. The room felt too small for her grief.

When she was still a young girl, Edna fancied becoming a preschool teacher. She wanted to play with little kids and teach them about shapes and letters and colors. Being an only child denied her the enjoyment of playing house with a little sister or hide and seek with a little brother. That was when she was introduced to Mr. North, a family friend who spent half of his inheritance to build and manage an orphanage. It had been her advocacy.

"I'm s-sorry...I'm sorry. God, the baby," she whimpered.

"He's safe, Edna," Gideon shook her slightly. Edna's jaw dropped in disbelief. Gideon smiled, nodding. "You're both safe."

"Oh my god," fresh set of tears began to fill her eyes. _We're safe. We're safe. We're home._

When she learned about being pregnant, nervousness washed on her instead of the delight that usually accompanied such a blessing. It came as a surprise; she could not pinpoint exactly when she had missed her pills because she had been religiously taking it for years. The last month had been stressful planning for two events that were to be held for their family company. Everything had been a blur and she and Gideon had been working behind closed doors that it's natural to relieve the tension with each other. She couldn't regret giving herself to him. _If only I were only to believe that this is because of family honor._

Stealthily pressing the call button, Gideon took her in his arms again.

"How did you get into this mess?" Gideon asked, leaning on her bed.

Edna shook her head, "I really do not know how. It was raining really hard and I just got off the office. I was behind this family car, then the truck came out of nowhere. I steered the wheel the other way to avoid it, but it still grazed the car." She felt for the bandage on her temple. "What happened to the other car?"

Gideon swallowed, "It fell on the river. There was a family in there, and only their little boy survived." Edna was aware of the shudder that ran on Gideon's body.

She tugged on his wrist, "We have to help him."

Gideon kissed her temple, "Elsa would like that. She's been visiting the kid."

Edna smiled smugly, almost gushing about how adorable her daughter is, but it was dampened by her sudden thought of the orphan boy whose life toppled over all because of some bastard who had not been careful during that stormy night. Her thoughts drifted to the little boy in her womb, whose future was almost stolen even before he got the chance to experience it.

"I'm sorry for not telling you about the baby," Edna closed her eyes. "I was just so angry—"

He silenced her with a peck just as the nurse entered the room.

"We'll talk about it in the morning," Gideon said. Edna simply nodded as she allowed the nurse to proceed with her task.

* * *

"Why won't you wake up?"

Elsa was sitting beside Jack again. It has been two days since she first visited him. The girl had been visiting seemingly every hour (or whenever Jamie could sneak her in). She would always carefully position herself beside him before opening her sketchpad which had been jotted on by people she asked to. She was even able to have her mother and father write a few words in it.

On the fourth day of his unconsciousness, Jack looked better (albeit farther than his usual self). His breathing tube was now the one under his nose. The bandaged wrapped on his head is cleaner. He's still pale, but he's warmer.

"I really wish you will wake up. Anna is the one who talks a lot, not me. But your room looks sad. And Jamie told me that the doctor told his mother to talk to you because you can hear us," Elsa sighed in frustration. "I really want to be your friend. I only have Anna and Tooth and Gerda and Kai and Jaime."

She flipped her sketchpad open, "I asked Gerda to help me write you a story so when you wake up, you and Jamie won't get bored. But Jamie told me you only like to play." Elsa scoffed, "I like to read, and my teacher told me it will help me a lot. You should read a lot too."

Humming to herself, she scanned the pages of the sketchpad. After four long days, she was able to fill it from cover to cover. For a child, Elsa has an uncanny way of focusing on whatever she is doing, and bending everyone according to her will. The past few days had her pestering Gerda to _please help finish the story, _scolding Anna to _please do not push my hands, _and warning Jamie to _please be careful not to color beyond the line. _

With everyone's help, they finished the illustrated story last night.

"The doctor told mommy that she may go home already. We are going home tomorrow, Jackie boy," Elsa's eyebrows furrowed. "Maybe if you wake up I can ask mommy and daddy to bring you home with us so you won't be alone. So you will have family again."

If Elsa didn't drop her gaze back to her sketchpad, she would have noticed how the boy's motionless fingers twitch.

* * *

He slipped into the room when the little blonde girl finally left.

Shock was the first thing he felt when he finally saw the little boy. He remembered seeing him from afar – a little boy, around four years old, no taller than his hip. His eyes prickled at the sight of his fragile, battered body. His muscles seemingly steered him to the boy's side; he swiftly but quickly cradled him in his arms for the second time since he was born.

In the moonlight, their heads appeared like converging halos.

"Daddy is here now, Jackie."


	9. 8: zugzwang

**Note: Still not mine.**

_To Trapid and Guest, thank you!_

* * *

The parking lot was stifling hot as stagnant fumes ensnare his senses. Beads of sweat began to form on his hairline, marking a trail led to the silk of his shirt. Observing his surroundings, he walked unperturbed towards his waiting car.

A hand immediately flashed in his line of vision. His pale eyes followed where the limb connected.

"Mrs. Bennett," he greeted solemnly, dark-rimmed eyes casting the woman with a glance.

The woman sneered, "What are you doing here?" Her fingers clawed on his wrist, clutching tighter. Crescent imprints almost drew blood in thin skin.

Manny stared at her defiantly. "I'm here for my son."

"Jack is no son of yours!" She spat, pushing on his chest. "You repealed the right when you decided that my sister is no more than a warm body to bury yourself into!" Hands almost thrashed him as he stood unguarded, but with quick reflexes, they were caught.

Manny has always been described by Gideon as a pacifist. His appearance would have others perceive him to be so. But his mind is of a different matter. He went away because he could stomach ruthlessness and could tolerate pain. He is capable of not regretting, but Jack and his mother—

"He has my blood, my skin, my eyes, my coloring. I have my mark on every inch of that boy, and no law could deprive me of him." His voice was cold fury underneath his frail-looking physique. "I did the things I did for him, and no one, not even you, could judge me for it."

"I raised him with my sister, so don't tell me I have no right!" She cried, raising her legs to hit him. He quickly jumped away, executing a turn that had the woman held in control. She shoved her elbow back, but he merely cringed as he tightened his hold.

He had anticipated this hatred. From the moment he left Jack's mother in his rented room at that nearly dilapidated building downtown, he waited for their anger to brew. He kept track of his mistakes and observed as it evolved into a pregnant single woman who can barely make two ends meet with her sister's help. When she met her husband, he learned of every single thing that can be sniffed from him; he would have intervened if the man was even a bit an object of suspicion. But it was just like her to pick someone as good and as pure and as broken as her. Someone so different from him.

"I did it all for them." The woman's eyes widened as Manny's eyes shimmered in unshed tears. "I am not for them. You won't understand, but you don't have too."

His pain is visceral and gnawing as its coils sprung from a pandora box he shut deep to the base of the iceberg he called past. It flared and melted his core.

"I won't ever forgive you...for breaking my sister and for abandoning your family because they're mine as much as they're yours." Her face hardened as her hands shook in unmated rage. "I have to pick the pieces you shattered. And if it's because of you that she died and he got into this state, I won't stop until you're in whatever hell you belong. I may be a poor woman, but I will always be there for my family because they're much more than the wealth this world has to offer."

The woman pulled away from him. Turning around indignantly, her figure moved farther away from him.

Manny exhaled, swallowing his apologies. His hands found his phone, scrolling down his phonebook. He pressed the call button.

"What's the progress?" He asked, his voice authoritative and calm. Traces of the man he was a few minutes ago were gone.

"It's done, sir."

* * *

Elsa skipped excitedly as she entered the floor where Jack is admitted.

Gerda was smiling at the little girl's enthusiasm. Since it is their last day of stay in the city before driving back on their own, Elsa's parents allowed her to visit her unconscious friend. Because Elsa still had to go to school come the beginning of the following week, the only communication she would have would be with Jamie. Maybe Jack will wake up soon, maybe he won't. Until then, she and Jaime will be waiting.

As they went closer the room, Elsa noticed that the lights were closed from the windows from the venetian blinds. She ran and turned the door, but it was locked. Small fists pounded on the door as she called his name.

A man in white coat heard the ruckus Elsa was causing. He approached them.

"Doctor, where's my friend?" Elsa tugged on his coat.

"What's your friend's name, little girl?" The man squatted down to her level.

"Jack. He sleeps in this room. Where is he?" She replied politely, even if her thumbs began to twiddle on the other.

The doctor pressed his glasses back to his nose, staring sympathetically to the little girl.

"He died last night."

Her features suddenly transformed from an angel to a mad child. Her eyes narrowed.

"You're not a good doctor. You're lying," politeness turned to chilling wrath.

"We did everything we could for your friend, little girl," his hands reached for her head to ruffle her hair. Pain ascended from his left feet as Elsa stomped on it.

"You're lying. Jack is okay. He is just sleeping. He will wake up!"

Gerda, who was primarily taken aback by the doctor's words, grabbed Elsa on her middle. The little girl squirmed and flailed in her arms, shouting _liar_ all the time. Two nurses who were just finishing their rounds quickly came to them. Nobody noticed how the doctor's eyes shifted before he ushered them farther from the unit to one of the vacant rooms. Gerda assumed it was the doctor's office with the shelves and certificates against the wall. She brought Elsa to the couch.

As soon as she was settled down, she lunged for the man. She punched on his leg and kicked on his other feet. The man almost toppled over her smaller body as he lost balance. Elsa was surprisingly quick; she kept on shouting _liar_ at the man.

Suddenly, the door swung open. Edna gasped at the rabid display of her daughter. She took her from behind, clasping her hands on her wrists. Elsa, recognizing the touch, let go of the man and buried herself in her mother's chest as she cried. Little fingers crumpled Edna's shirt as tears began to dampen it.

"Mommy, he's lying to me," she croaked. "I hate liars. Jack is going to wake up."

Edna ran her hands at Elsa's back, drawing comforting circles. Gerda immediately assisted the man to his seat. His slight frame appeared more vulnerable to Elsa's hits. His resigned features conveyed pity for the girl who wouldn't believe.

"Gerda, call the number Mrs. Bennett gave you," Edna instructed. The other woman bowed slightly before going out of the room.

Elsa took shuddering breaths before it slowed, her heart rhythmically pounding against her chest. Edna stared at the blank wall as the man stared at them.

Gerda returned after a few minutes.

"The line is out of service."

* * *

Three months to the day of the accident, eyelids trembled in effort as brown eyes adjusted its vision to room light.

The bed was spacious enough for two people, its blankets nearly drowning him. A head rested near his lap, dark brown in contrast to the pale blue of the bed. His fingers shook as he reached for the head, and he gasped as the action nearly took his breath away. His action did not wake the sleeping form, but the hitch in his breath did.

Watery smile and disbelief greeted him. He opened his mouth to croak out a name, but it only made his throat hurt. The formerly sleeping form took the glass of water that was on the bedside table, assisting the boy on the bed just as the private nurse instructed him months ago.

"E-Emmy?" his voice was hushed, but it rang clear against the silence of the room.

"Long time no see, Jackie boy," Jamie welcomed.

* * *

Sanford Arendelle was born premature at seven months, but in his little form he surged through the challenges of his infant life competitively. He is his mother's joy and his father's pride. Anna adored him from his bald baby head to his pudgy form to the tip of his toes. The members of their household did too.

The only person who hasn't touched him as much is his elder sister.

Sanford, fondly called Sandy, would usually be played with by Anna and Tooth whenever she comes by. Even he had met Olaf, whose adoration for the child was in bounds. He could easily recognize their colors –red blond and green and black – but the passing of pale blond and ice blue always surprises him.

Growing up with a crowd of talkative children around him, it surprised his parents why Sandy remained very quiet compared to his companions. He had easily developed the ability to talk, picking up words babbled by his company. Yet, he rarely spoke.

Instead, he would spend hours searching for that pale blond and ice blue.

One time, he chanced upon the girl.

Gerda happened to cast her eyes away from him for a while, so when he saw the pale trail going towards the garden at the back of their house, he scampered to catch up with her.

The girl lay down the grassy patch, wisps of light hair against the dark green. Her eyes were staring blankly at the clouds in the sky. Sandy paused as he reached her side, hugging his package to his chest. He dropped to his knees and peered closer.

One blue eye peered back.

"Hello Sandy," the voice said. Sandy smiled at the sound of her voice. It reminded him of the honey that Anna and Olaf drowned their pancakes in, and the flowers that Tooth wove.

The girl is a mosaic of blues and gray, beiges and white. Her image etched in Sandy's memory, in a canvas fashioned differently than the others. Elsa's canvas is dipped in black, perched against a tree in the middle of a forest. She's the pallor of winter and the dark of the abandoned. Sandy reached for her cheek, small hands caressing cool skin. The little boy picked up his fallen package and placed it on top of Elsa's stomach.

"Draw," he whispered, nudging her hand as he mimicked her position.

"What do you want me to draw?," Elsa sat up. She flipped the sketchpad's cover.

"Where did you see this, Sandy?"

Elsa heard Anna tell stories about Jack when they came home. Her sister was so amused by the story book Elsa did for the boy that the story stuck to her. _Once upon a time, there was a boy named Jack, who didn't mind to play. People could not see him, and so he looked for a way. He threw them snowballs during winter, and plans tricks with you in the day—_

Jack, that little boy who lost his family to an accident. Jack and their one-sided friendship. Jack who died—

"Draw Jack, Elsa?" Sandy took a crayon from the box and held it out to Elsa.

Elsa's eyes teared up, but she still took Sandy's crayon and flipped to the next page. "Okay, Sandy."


	10. 9: grab your ankles

**Note: Owns nothing.**

_Trapid and Starndreams, I hope I am able to answer some of your questions here. :)_

* * *

He stood in his naked glory in front of the mirror.

Pale skin, nearly the color of snow if not for the faint spatter of freckles. Brown eyes, with specks of hazel glinting with the right angle of lighting. Lightly blond hair that is almost white, fragile woven strands of gold spun atop his head. Aristocratic nose (as Jamie teased him), prominent cheeks, thin lips, and defined jaw. Slim-built physique that matured throughout his adolescence years. Then there were the scars he had in memory – that unnoticeable unevenness in his scalp and evenly placed markings left by the incisions from the surgeries he received a decade ago. It scarred because of the depth of his wounds. They were almost unnoticeable, but Jack knew where to look - where they formed hills on his skin, where they shifted from angry reds to subtle pinks to unnatural whites.

He wondered what other people see when they meet him. Does this body tell them stories of a life that cannot be understood? Are his scars evident to show the world that he could not remember beyond the name of a girl named Emma when he woke up years ago? Does this pale hair scream, "You are orphaned by your adoptive parents after an accident that should've killed you?, or "Your biological father finally gave a damn and swooped in to rescue you and your aunt's family?"

In the last few years, Jack grappled for the answers to his questions. As it passed, his questions only gave rise to more questions, an unending web of stories that can never be told from beyond the grave.

Jack has a habit of staring at his nakedness, as if he will find his answers in his flesh. Maybe he needed to hit his head somewhere hard, so his skull could break and his brain could bleed to remember. Maybe he needed to stab himself with a pole to experience that excruciating pain he once felt to trigger the release of his memories. He did stupid attempts to keep the adrenaline rushing and to open the doors barred from him, but they were all futile.

He is a frustrated mess. In Jamie's words, "a pretty little boy lodged on a fucking shithole."

His cousin is unbelievably good with words.

"Jackie boy, stop staring at yourself and get downstairs already! My mother will start screaming like a banshee if you don't!" Someone yelled from the other room. Jamie was lucky that they don't bunk together, or he would have wrestled him.

Taking his time (to piss off Jamie), he grabbed a long-sleeved shirt and dark wash jeans hanging at the back of his chair.

Quietly, Jack went downstairs, footsteps hushed by the carpeted floors.

Reaching the bottommost step, he saw that the kitchen was occupied by two people.

"Why did you really come here, Max?"

His aunt turned to the sink as she reached for the cupboard where the mugs were placed.

"He wants you and the kids to move closer to the mansion."

He noticed the stiffening of his aunt's shoulders. "He has been asking me that for years. What made him think I will change my mind?"

"The boys are about to attend college, and it'll be safer—"

"Anywhere close to him is never a safe place. Do I need to remind you how he took my boys from the hospital—"

"If they stayed, his enemies will come after them."

"And whose fault is that, huh?" His aunt replied snarkily. "He should've thought of the consequences before coming back—"

"Jack is his utmost priority," long hands wrapped around the small spoon and languidly stirred the contents of the mug. "He's bound to be somewhat reckless for him."

"Reckless for a dying boy?" There was a humourless laugh that followed. "Only a father like him would act like that."

"It's been ten years. Can't you just give in?" The man sighed exasperatingly.

"It's better for her not to," Jack interrupted, finally appearing at the kitchen.

The man's posture didn't change, but a smirk graced his lips, as if he was aware that he had been listening on their conversation. His aunt swiftly faced him; Jack was surprised she didn't get a whiplash.

"Jack, good morning," Max greeted, getting on his feet.

"Hello Max, fancy a pancake?" Jack motioned his hand to the food.

"I've already eaten."

"Your loss," Jack shrugged, lathering his breakfast with butter and maple syrup.

As Jack ate in silence (which is more preferable compared to fighting with Jamie for the last piece of his aunt's cooking), he ignored the watchful eyes of Max.

He has known the man from the moment he woke up, being one of the first faces he was introduced to. Jack wasn't a fool; he could visualize the ruthlessness of the man disguised by the perfectly pressed clothes he wore and the winning smile he was sending him. Max is dangerous to be an enemy, but very protective to be an ally. Jack was lucky to be part of the latter. He also knows he just wants to get a rise from his aunt.

"Have you received your acceptance letters already?"

Jack nodded, cutting his pancake in evenly sized portions.

"And have you decided where to attend?"

"Somewhere far from my father," he said in between bites.

"Smart boy," his aunt muttered as she washed the dishes. Jack almost laughed.

"He will be very displeased by your choice," Max noted, amused.

"I am very displeased with his choice," Jack retorted. "It's just give and take, Max. He can't have it all."

Max laughed, "You sounded just like him there."

Brown eyes only rolled in irritation. "Too bad."

* * *

She shaded the last of the edges of her draft before scrutinizing it wholly.

_It's good, _she mused. The measurements are done as per guidelines. She is satisfied with the arrangement of the rooms, where she was given the liberty to out a large window as part of the wall for the study and the room. She closed her eyes, imagining herself enter the unit with her own things decorating the room. The paintings on the walls were hers. The furniture was similar to those in her room. The shelves were reminiscent of her own, but lined with different books. She could see Anna insisting on having fairy lights framing the window sill, or Tooth giving her some unusually shaped but intricately formed lamp shade. Sandy would hand her one of his own sketches to pin at her corkboard. Her mother would fill her kitchen with food she would have forgotten to eat, if not for Gerda reprimanding her for not eating well. Her father would hand her a music box especially made to match the room.

"Elsa, your father's meeting just ended," Pitch called from the door. Elsa rolled her draft before sauntering after the man.

Her father's office has become an extension of home since she turned twelve. By that time, her drawings have become recognized by her teacher. She took the liberty to inform her parents of her talents, and they began investing on it, hiring a private tutor and providing for her needed materials. While Elsa swayed away from extravagance, she appreciated the efforts of her family, and has vowed not to waste the years they poured on it. At 18 years of age, she was sure of what to pursue in life without compromising her family's needs.

"Your plan for your room is well thought of, Elsa. I'm sure your father will agree," Pitch commented, briefly eyeing the girl.

"Thank you, Uncle Pitch," Elsa replied humbly.

"I have not seen you draw anything besides house plans for a while. Are you still practicing your freehand drawing? I have always liked your sketches. I may still have some left from those you've given me when you were younger," he reminisced, his expression pensive.

The calmness in Elsa's features hardened.

"I still practice whenever inspiration comes, but I have not finished anything in a while," her voice, if one knew her well, is laced with an indescribable edge.

Nobody has to be aware of the sketchpads she hid at their attic, or the stories she told Sandy about the hero who died as he dreamed. Nobody has to know that she stopped sketching until Sandy asked her to draw again. Nobody has to be aware of how her things, as much as possible, were not made of blues because blues remind her of a missing friend and a dead boy. Blues reminded her of walls inside a room that never opened, of eyes with colors never knew of, of pale skin and bluish lips and bruises that will never heal, or an empty grave (she fantasized that he was only missing for a while until everything sank in) somewhere in the world that she will never have the heart to visit.

Elsa sighed inaudibly in thanks as they reached her father's room. Gideon stood with his back turned on them.

"Daddy," Elsa said. Her father turned and gave him a wide smile.

"You may leave us, Pitch."

The other man bowed slightly before leaving the room.

Elsa rushed to her father, clinging on his waist. The only people Elsa have expressed affection to is her family and Olaf, and when she did, she would melt like a lit candle. Gideon didn't speak as he hugged her back. They stayed in that position for a while before Elsa pulled back, handing her work to her father. His father, in return, took an envelope from the inner pocket of his coat and offered it to Elsa.

_Dear Ms. Arendelle,_

_It is with great pleasure that we congratulate you on your acceptance in our university._

"When did this arrive?" Elsa ran her hands on the letter in wonder.

"This morning. I gathered you wouldn't want to open it in front of everyone at home."

Elsa smiled sadly as she continued to read. She got in to her university of choice, and even acquired a coveted spot in the major she applied for. She has not expected to be admitted to the university with the competition of students across the country. It only became her choice so she can finally be away for a prolonged period of time. Being home has suffocated her. She was tired of being treated like a fragile damsel about to crack upon the slightest of movements. She lived through the ordeals of her childhood, right? Maybe she came out quieter and more reclusive than before, but she did not wither away. Some suggested to her parents that she take therapy, but instead of giving them more arsenals to work on, she opted to stop becoming a child.

"So, what do you think?" Gideon offered.

Elsa gave him a small smile, "I think you need to call mom and tell her the good news."

* * *

He poured them a shot of whiskey as his company on sat across him.

"You have a stubborn son," Max took the glass and tipped it back. "And a stubborn almost sister-in-law."

"As expected."

"Even after ten years?"

Manny took his own shot, "Time has the ability to magnify our feelings, even if the process is partly by choice. I'd rather have him hate me and alive, than love me and dead."

Max never understood how Manny, the man who took him from the dumps and trained him to the man he is today, ignored the chance to share a relationship with his son even after saving his life. The older man had taken lengths to hide the boy and to subdue the feisty aunt, but never utilized his resources to have them. Even after a decade, the woman has exerted her autonomy over Manny's decisions, and has influenced the boy in treating his father. It was almost preposterous, if not for the undeniable risks of Manny's job.

"Have you ever considered being a normal guy again? You know, the dad everybody is envious of because he's filthy rich and smart to boot."

If he were any other person, Max would be lying on the floor with a growing puddle of red beneath him.

But then again, he's Max – potty-mouthed Max with burning looks and deadly hands.

"I don't want to subject my son into such antagonism if I decide to leave. Although unaccepting, at least he's safe."

Manny opened one of his drawers and passed an envelope to Max. "Watch over him at the university. You may find the life of a plebeian to be more interesting. Bring Flynn with you. The boy is going to crack the walls of this building if he stays here any longer."

"As if I could stay still for a minute," Max rolled his eyes, sending him a two-fingered salute before going away.


	11. 10: the strings that bind us

**Note: Owns nothing.**

_Trapid: I'll be revealing Manny's job as the story goes on so stay tuned. Thank you for reading! :)_

* * *

When they first arrived at the building they're moving in, Max instructed Jack to follow him to the basement.

"Jamie packed a thousand boxes. He will bite me in the ass if I don't help him," Jack scratched the back of his head in confusion.

"That boy needs to form some muscles. Let him be," Max gruffly replied. His fingers massaged the bridge of his nose.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you're giving him a reason to break his bones just to piss my aunt off," Jack mused as they reached the door at the end of the turn.

"It's really amusing to get a rise out of her."

Jack snorted as he let Max lead him to the dark and dank space below.

His eyes adjusted to the lack of light, attempting to distinguish Max from the shadows. The hairs in his nape stood at the sudden movement from behind him. Jack ducked, groaning.

"Seriously, Max? We just got here," Jack complained, closing his eyes as he sensed for changes the room. A hand nearly grazed his right ear. He rolled to his left to avoid the blow.

The spar lasted for almost an hour. Throughout the session, Jack continued to cuss at Max, who seemed intent on breaking his bones in exchange for Jamie's. Adrenaline coursed his veins like a mob in fury, limbs tingling and senses burning in exhilaration. Much as he complained, Jack enjoyed the synchronous movement of his hands and feet as he escaped Max. It is reminiscent of being on the edge.

"You're a talkative bastard," Max drawled from the opposite side of the room, if Jack estimated their distance correctly with the sound of his voice.

"I like hearing the sound of my voice," Jack retorted smugly.

An invisible force almost hit Jack on his back; he would've sprawled on the floor if not for his reflexes. Dropping to the ground, he swung his feet towards it. He was aware that the force didn't come from Max; it would've been difficult to cross the room without Jack noticing. Whoever the person is has been with them since they went down, and must have a great sense of control in his movements if he was able to mask it almost completely from Jack.

The person proved to be a more challenging opponent compared to Max. The latter might be quick in his feet and raging with his fists, but the former is fluid in his grace and masterful in his dance. _Max might be a breaker, but this man is a killer. _Hands where precise in where they are commanded blindly by the brain. Feet were tangling and untangling as he approached him. Jack's nape has nearly been touched almost thrice already. He hates it when other people touch his nape.

Light suddenly flooded the room. If Jack didn't somersault back, he would've sported a bruise on his torso.

"You've practiced well, Jack," a quiet voice broke through his heavy breaths.

His eyes narrowed to the man who spoke. People would be easily deceived be the frail-looking man, but the image was but a facade to the strength and cunning he hid within. The world has been deceived by the appearance of this man.

"Father," Jack greeted snarkily. "It's a pleasure to see you."

"No need for niceties, my boy," Manny replied. "Max, please leave us for a while."

The closing of the trapdoor echoed loudly. Father and son observed the other. Manny smirked at the resemblance. Same hair, same eyes, same built, but also vastly different.

"Would it hurt you to spare me an ounce of respect even if I weren't around?" Manny inquired, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Yes," Jack replied curtly.

Manny sighed in resignation, "Perhaps I was mistaken to have told you the truth when you were a child."

"Trust me, you weren't." Jack walked towards the wall, fingers touching the dust that collected in the empty shelf. "That way, I wouldn't be living a lie. You saved my life and gave it back to me after nearly taking it in the first place."

A hand gripped Jack's elbow. "I am at fault as to why they ran after you, but you need to let go of this hate, Jack."

Jack shrugged his shoulder forcefully, "Hate is the only thing I remember, so don't tell me to let it go!" He shoved Manny on the chest, "I should've died. That would've taught you a lesson!"

Stinging pain bloomed on his cheek, sending Jack sprawling to the ground. He spat, glaring intensely at his father's unmoved form. Manny casted him a hard look.

"Respect, Jack." Manny rubbed his hand of dirt. "I expect you to continue training and excel in your studies. You will be very valuable to the company."

As Manny walked away, his keen ears didn't fail to hear the hateful sob of his son.

* * *

Gideon sat across her, mindfully cutting the steak he ordered. She watched the measured movements, similar to the way Elsa eats whenever they have meals together.

It is a well-established thought that Elsa took after her father, despite gaining her mother's features. Beneath the obedience and decorum, Elsa is a person of rare smiles and secrecy. Edna was certain that father and daughter have already planned of Elsa's upcoming move to the university. It spiked jealousy on her before, whenever Elsa would chase after her father for almost everything she wanted. She is her mother, after all.

The last ten years helped her understand.

Ever since the death of the child Elsa befriended in the hospital, the little girl became more withdrawn to them. It would sadden her how Elsa would not play with Anna, Tooth, and Olaf, or whenever she would simply pass by Sandy's nursery. She stopped talking to her and Gideon, and gave Gerda and Kai minimal requests. For some reason, that death changed her, so Edna took it upon herself to initiate the quest on looking for the boy.

She hired a private investigator to search for the child or even his grave and the house where they used to live. She followed trails on the whereabouts of the child's aunt and his family. She travelled to the neighbourhood where they used to live. It all came up with naught. The trails led to dead ends, and at nights she could only growl in frustration. Hospital records suddenly got missing. As if families never existed in the first place.

She would usually visit the graves of Jack's dead family during the anniversary of the accident. At first, for closure, because she almost died that night too. During her search, she visited them for answers, hoping that their names would give her a clue. _Overland. Overland. Overland._ The surname didn't even hint a spark of recognition. These days, she just visited because she's tired.

"Are you alright? You've been staring at me for the past few minutes," Gideon remarked, putting his knife and fork down.

Edna smiled, "I was just thinking of which projects to prioritize this month and who to put in-charge with them." She picked her fork and stabbed down her plate. "I want to maximize the experience of the interns. You know those kids, they're full of ideas. I don't want to waste them."

"I'm sure you'll do well," Gideon reassured, covering her hand that was placed atop the table with his larger ones.

In the past years, the couple resolved to improve their communication in order to foster a better relationship. Throughout the process, they have learned that marriage is a faceted structure, and that its faces must all culminate to for it to progress. It has been difficult. Edna built on her trust issues, and the pile that Gideon formed nearly toppled her down. There had been a lot of nights spent in different rooms on the other side of the house. Add to that was the impending birth of their son.

But they strived.

"Elsa will be moving near the university in a few months. I want to be there for her."

Gideon nodded, "I have already got her design of the room. We've made a good job with her."

"Almost," Edna's eyes turned downcast. "Have you talked to her about...it?"

Her husband sighed, shaking his head. "She hasn't given a hint about wanting to talk about it. The last time I did, I only ended up reprimanding her and her not budging."

"Has your...friend found anything?" Edna knew of Gideon having his own men searching, but she didn't want to be involved with them after learning about Gothel years ago – the woman sick to the brain deluding herself about her husband. Edna cringed at the idea of dealing with her. The woman must have been subdued; nothing has happened in the last few years connecting to her. Yet, at the back of her mind, Edna had a niggling thought that things were still to happen.

"No."

Edna rested her cheek against her palm, "Maybe we just stop. Let the boy rest in peace."

Her husband's eyebrow rose, eyes gazing at her searchingly.

"Maybe we shouldn't have pursued for the boy for this long. I don't want to give Elsa false hopes anymore. She always had a feeling of us searching, and it's high time for us to—" Edna closed her eyes.

Gideon squeezed her hand "I understand."

* * *

Elsa brushed her hair back as the wind whipped it as they exited her building.

She finished arranging the last of her things in her room that her family didn't mind much. Gerda took full liberty in filling up her kitchen, the one she shopped for last night. She would be visiting again after the first week of classes. Her furniture was delivered weeks ago, and her parents helped move them around (mostly with her mother instructing her father and her father being _whipped, _in Anna's words). Anna and Tooth took the liberty to check her clothes (_to deem you fit to be borrowed clothes from, _said Tooth). She tugged on Sandy's hands and decided to bring the little boy somewhere more peaceful.

Her building is situated in a neighborhood of students from the university, which made the process of coaxing her parents easier. Tooth, who has been her oldest friend, would be living in the unit across hers. Punzie, her cousin, was yet to move because she's still on vacation. She'll be sharing Tooth's unit. God help them clean the place.

"Can we eat ice cream?" A quiet voice spoke from beside her. Sandy was holding both her hands, eyes pleading.

Elsa shook his hair, "Sure thing, buddy."

They sauntered down the sidewalk, reaching a diner at the corner of the road. Elsa pointed her thumb to it, and waited for Sandy to nod before opening the door.

Bell chimes tinkered as she and Sandy went inside. The tables were littered with few people, which is typical for a weekday afternoon. They spotted one of the booths before hoisting Sandy up to the seat.

"What can we get the pretty lady and the lad?"

Elsa looked up. The man – Flynn, from what's written in his nameplate – was smiling dashingly at her. She found the gesture quite creepy, but shrugged it off.

"Can we get a serving of chocolate sundae and a cup of coffee?" Elsa ordered. Sandy was already spreading his sketchpad and coloring pencils. Flynn the waiter looked briefly at her brother before nodding casually.

"Will have it done in a jiffy," Flynn replied, looking back at Sandy. The little boy's face scrunched as the man winked at him.

Elsa took a pencil from her purse and began to sketch on the other side of Sandy's drawing. Her hand moved languidly to create the smooth lines of their garden back home. She started with the vine-decorated wall, and the flowered bushes Gerda loved to tend. She remembered summers when Tooth and Anna would conspire to pick on them and would ask Elsa _do not tell Gerda, please _and _you can make those pressed flowers you like so much._

A bowl of sundae and a cup of coffee was placed on the clear area of the table. "That's wicked drawing, kiddo."

"Thank—"

"Jackie!" Sandy called.

Pale hair. Pale skin. Pink lips (not blue, not blue). And brown – dark, dark brown. _Real, real, he' s real._

Elsa blinked, eyes masking an explosion that commenced in her core.

With shaky voice, she whispered, "Thank you."

The coffee was left untouched. As soon as Sandy finished his fill of the ice cream, she dragged him away.


	12. 11: if i can peel you skin to skin

**Note: Owns nothing.**

_Thank you for reading, everyone! Hope I answered your questions in this chapter. Enjoy-_

* * *

The wall across her bed was painted in muted white.

She has been sitting cross-legged in the middle of her bed since her family left. She already shed the coat she wore to the diner and was down to the jeans that hugged her legs and the sweater that engulfed her frame. Her face froze to a smile that tricked her family from staying longer than intended. Sandy looked at her longingly, wanting her to unbind him from their promise, but Elsa only patted her head.

_Jackie is real, Elsa._

_Let's keep it a secret, Sandy._

_But I saw your storybook. Anna told me stories like you told her._

_A secret, Sandy. Please._

The features of the boy at the diner only surprised her. It's the same paleness that haunted her in years, but then again, her clues are but memories of childhood. To have remembered with clarity is a feat. Elsa would have brushed the thought if not for the surprise it brought. The boy she met in the hospital when she was a child would eternally be a child.

_Wouldn't he?_

Maybe she could simply account it as childhood trauma. The exposure to a sudden death that a child's mind would have difficulty wrapping itself into, or maybe it was the sight of an almost dead body that did it for her. Either way, the interest – _obsession _– was unhealthy.

_Shake it off, Elsa. You don't...need it in your life._

The wall remained white, perfectly white that her eyes hurt after hours of gazing. The image felt wrong. It shouldn't be blandly clean. The woman who will be living in the room is anything but innocent. She earned her streaks of blacks and reds and greens and browns and—

Blue. Always blue.

She hurriedly rushed to her stash of paint under the kitchen sink. Hurriedly, she mixed the paint for the colors she saw in her mind. Her hands then, in a seemingly haphazard manner, stained the white of the walls with a fading memory – a painting of a wandering girl with a hazy cloud of beiges and blues shattering in the wind, its pieces a chain of the word _realrealrealreal—_

She slept through lunch the following day.

* * *

"Stop daydreaming, pretty boy," a dirty dishcloth was flung to his face. Jack growled to the direction from where it came from.

"I've been slaving away since this diner opened. Cut me some slack," he complained, flexing his neck. He groaned in pleasure.

"Psh. You, my friend, didn't even sweat."

"Smelling me now, Rider?"

The man hoisted himself up the counter, his nose millimeters from Jack's nose. Jack suddenly jumped back, barely holding himself from falling on his back on the floor. That would have hurt a lot, and he didn't need to lug a sore body to his spar with Max tomorrow morning.

"Get off me," Jack growled, trying to scare Flynn away with his voice. If he moved his hand even less an inch from where it currently is, two full-grown men would be found sprawled on the dirty floors. That would be very suggestive, if Max were to stumble upon them. Or embarrassing for Jamie. His cousin needs to be violated by Max some time.

"You smell like lovesick and admiration. Tell me, Jackie boy, has that pretty blond got you on your knees?" Flynn smirked, angling his face in question. The smirk grew as the older man noticed something in Jack's face. Jack's eyes widened in horror as he felt the warmth tingling his cheeks. If Flynn didn't pull back quickly, he would have sported a broken nose.

Jack would admit that the highlight of his day was serving the booth at the corner of the room, where he saw a child who is an art prodigy and the girl that accompanied him. He was, at first, focusing on what the child was drawing. He was awed by the detail he had put in his sketch, curious as to what he was modelling it after. _Or rather, who. _

It was the reason why he looked at the boy's company, only to find the answer to his question.

His curiosity was satiated by button nose and pale lips, by slim neck and accented cheekbones, and hooded but eyes as clear as uncharted waters. Jack swore that if he hadn't placed her order of coffee prior to gazing at her, the floor would have been littered with broken china.

The appalled look in her face squashed the burning in his chest though.

He might have walked away from the booth with a defeated sigh, but it didn't stop him from glancing back repeatedly until the two left. He felt like Jamie with his school boy crushes, but this girl – she's different. Something about her screamed abandonment and loneliness.

His interest didn't escape Flynn, who was manning the counter for the day.

"She's pretty," Jack muttered, pushing the chair back to its proper position.

"But she seemed to hate your guts. Girl's intuitive. Good for her," Flynn teased, stacking the bottles of ketchup back to its rack.

The back door opened, revealing a sweaty Jamie. His brown hair matted to his head like a helmet, earning snickers from the Flynn and Jack. Jamie scowled, slumping himself against the wall.

"Never ask me to count the stocks again!" Jamie grumbled, punching the wall halfheartedly. As his knuckles hit its surface, Jamie groaned, pulling back his hands and massaging it.

"It's just a bad day for you both," Flynn joshed.

Jamie watched his cousin inquisitively, "Jack had a bad day too? That's new."

"There was this customer this afternoon. She didn't fawn over our dear comrade here, so he turned the PMS button on," Flynn explained. Jack flung the dishcloth to the back of his head, hitting its target. Flynn wouldn't be bothered by that anymore; he could lock himself in the bathroom as soon as they close the diner.

"Piss off, Rider," Jack yelled as he went farther from the two. He began moving the tables and flipping the chairs for the night.

He didn't hear what else the two talked about, but he could not shrug off the attention Jamie gave him throughout the night.

* * *

Elsa woke up at the break of dawn, her vision washed by the shadow of the sky. The sun's rays barely peeked from the horizon, yet her mind is in clarity.

Her foot padded towards the kitchen as she automatically set the coffee maker and opened the cabinets for breakfast. Tooth and Punzie would surely be there in a few minutes, just as they promised last night.

She took the bread and the egg and began whipping the latter. From the fridge, she took the thawed bacon and the butter. The bacon was set on the pan and added with a bit of water to extract its oil so it could sizzle on its own. Egg was beaten and salt was added. The first batch of bread was set on the stove.

Her body was on autopilot maneuvering in the kitchen as her thoughts flew elsewhere.

The only thing she has been doing in the past few days was draw, which got to Tooth's nerves because her eager friend wanted to explore the campus. Tooth continued to badger her until Punzie arrived three days ago, who shared the same enthusiasm as Tooth. The two were a force to be reckoned with, but Elsa stuck by her turf.

Free spirits, Elsa called them. Truthfully, inspiration hasn't struck her in a long time and now that she has it, she would fan its flames until its embers hung in the skies alongside stars. She'd just...ask for directions when classes began. From what she saw in her class schedule, she would only be transporting between three buildings. Her campus map showed that the three were not that far apart.

It will work.

During her self-imposed seclusion, Elsa was also able to add details in the wall she painted. She dug for her old pieces and began selecting which to hang and which to give away. She would look for a shop somewhere close and maybe sell some of her pieces. It would be good for her to part from her creations, a purging of sorts.

Knocking broke her reverie. "Open up, little queen!"

Elsa rolled her eyes as she opened the door, "No need to wake the whole floor, Tooth."

"Just let them wake up. They'd thank me for the free alarm," Tooth waved her hand nonchalantly. Punzie followed behind her, still yawning. Elsa pitied her cousin for her unnatural biological clock.

The three girls situated themselves in Elsa's dining area. After the coffee was poured, Tooth raised her mugs.

"To a promising first day of classes," she chanted. The two girls bumped their own mugs.

"And to our prospective lovers," Tooth added with a smirk. When no one bumped her mug, she scowled. "Come on, you two. Punzie, you know you want it. Elsa, stop being a killjoy."

Elsa only shook her head at her friend's silliness. If she is to be realistic, Elsa would just study her ass off until she finishes college. Being the eldest daughter of the Arendelles, an arranged marriage in the future is foreseeable. It worked for her parents; why shouldn't it work for her too?

It's not like she's pining for anyone.

"Come on. Humor me, girls," Tooth raised her mug again. "To our prospective lovers!"

Three mugs clinked against the silence of the morning.

* * *

Of all the days Jack would be late, it had to be on the first day of classes – specifically, in first period.

Jamie could only roll his eyes in amazement for his cousin's timely act. Even though they slept in separate rooms, Jack's alarm could send people in the house irritably waking up simply because of the screech in its tone. Flynn actually threw something hard and heavy (probably a text book or a hammer for all the tinkering he's been doing in his room) that almost formed a dent on the wall. It just had to be his luck to have his room sandwiched between two grouchy males.

He left them to fend for themselves. _More like to escape Max's yammering, calling on Flynn and Jack's shit. Not Jamie – Flynn and Jack._

Everybody seemed to have the same idea of being up early and going to class half an hour before the professor arrives. Typical for first year students – always on the safe side. When Jamie entered the room, half the seats were occupied. He almost panicked at the thought of sitting somewhere he would be unable to hear the professor.

He eyed the vacant spot three seats from the window.

Jamie sat beside a boy who was fervently writing in his notepad, face only a few inches away from its surface. When Jamie settled down, the boy whipped his head to his side, introducing himself as Harold. The girl on his left snorted and told Jamie to call him _Hiccup, just to piss him off. _Harold – _Hiccup _– grunted, but only smiled sheepishly at him. The girl introduced herself to be Astrid.

The person farthest from Jamie was facing down, her cheek resting against her palm. Her eyes were closed, and Jamie presumed her to be sleeping.

An attendance sheet was being passed from the front of the class. When the person in front of the sleeping girl tapped her, she opened her eyes. Jamie had a niggling feeling at the back of his head; it hasn't failed him yet (especially when it comes to Jack pranking him). He observed as the girl wrote her name and passed the sheet to Astrid.

When it reached him, his eyes zeroed in on the name before Astrid's.

_Elsa Arendelle._

_She's here. She's here. I'm right. _Jamie opened his mouth to call her when the door opened with a bang.

Jamie recognized his cousin as the latter traipsed down the center of the room. His eyes frantically swayed from Jack and Elsa. _They have to meet. She has to recognize him._

The other door opened – the one in front – and a briefcase was dropped on the teacher's table.

The chattering hushed.

The professor's eyes narrowed as he scanned their faces. His eyes lingered in their row, sending a shiver down Jamie's spine.

"Good morning class. I am Professor Aster Bunnmund. Welcome to Introductory Mathematics."


	13. 12: undeniable

**Note: Owns nothing.**

_Thank you for reading, everyone! Enjoy!_

* * *

Elsa diligently scribbled in her notebook as Professor Bunnmund went on with his lesson.

The tip of her pen fluidly glided on her paper, as if it is barely scratching the surface. Her hands lightly held her writing instrument, just as her thoughts were trickling from the crevices of the room the sunny morning outside. Beside her, a girl – _Astrid Hofferson, nice to meet you _– was chiding the boy on her right – _Hiccup, will you please not scare the boy? Stop geeking out! – _as a thick worksheet is being passed. Elsa politely took hers from Astrid.

"Look at this, Astrid. These are basics, like mind-joggers. This is good—"

"Don't even start with that shit—"

"Come on. You're good at this. You know it—"

"Ha! Stop kissing my ass—"

"Hi," Elsa looked up from her worksheet. The boy smiled sheepishly at her, "Do you want to be, uhm, partners for math class? I don't think they'll be done anytime soon."

"I'm not—"

"Yes, you are. You just don't want to do your part for some stupid experiment—"

"Hey! Don't diss my stuff—"

Elsa sighed resignedly. She didn't hear the professor's instructions from all the arguing beside her. "Sure."

The boy smiled again, then tapped Astrid's shoulder. Astrid stopped mid-sentence, mouth hung open. "Oh, I'm sorry! This crazy ass—"

"I'm not crazy!"

"—won't stop talking unless I shut him up. I'll be his partner for your sanity's sake," she flashed them a cheery smile, before casting a baleful glance at the other boy. He swallowed noticeably. Astrid then stood, transferring to Elsa's partner's former seat.

Elsa watched the boy settle her things beside her. He was studying her, gaze intent as he settled himself in his new seat. It unnerved Elsa, but she simply smiled at him politely.

"What was the professor asking us to do?" She inquired to break the tension.

"The first six pages. He's giving us the whole period," he replied. Elsa briefly scanned the pages. Three-hundred questions overall. No wonder Astrid was complaining.

"I'll take the latter half," Elsa chose.

"Okay. I'm Jamie, by the way. Jamie Bennett."

Something tugged in her memory, so similar to what she felt on the diner a week ago. Elsa was reminded of tousled hair and browns and honest smiles. _You're a weird girl, Elsa. Weird, but pretty. _Images of a boy sneaking around with her at the hospital flashed in her mind, but she dismissed the thought.

"Elsa Arendelle," she introduced.

"I know," Jamie gave her a secretive smile, and Elsa could hear the underlying meaning in his words.

Throughout the period, Elsa ignored Jamie as she perused the questions and wrote the solutions and final answers on a separate paper. She could feel Jamie alternately burning holes on the side of her face and answering his part of the activity.

Of course, she knew of Jamie. How could she forget the boy who initiated it all?

Elsa wanted to feel anger, to send the boy running back home, to push him away until even his memory becomes nil. The storybook she did as a child was still on the box under her bed (yes, even after years of hiding it in the attic, Elsa could not depart from the sketchpad of blues and beiges and dead boys – _dead still, right?_), and she could barely contain the urge to tear its pages apart and fling its pieces to the boy beside her. _I know you well, bastard. You told me to meet him and to come to him and then you upped and left. You won't understand half of the misery I felt. _But to feel so is...futile. It can never bring back the innocence she craved.

It won't change anything.

The equations in their worksheet were almost blurring by the time she answered the last question.

She sensed Jamie cringe when a large chunk of paper hit him. Elsa looked around and noticed that their professor wasn't even in the room. It was almost time to leave.

She took out her notebook and began scribbling on the margin of its first page.

Another ball of paper hit its target in Jamie. She saw Jamie ball his fists.

Elsa continued sketching.

The last ball hit Jamie's forehead. He turned back and growled at whoever was throwing the balls.

Out of curiosity, Elsa's head turned back also.

The same boy from the diner – _Jackie, Jackie, Jackie_ – was smirking mischievously, his chin resting on his intertwined fingers. His pale eyebrows were lifted, as if daring Jamie to make his move. Elsa would have looked away had he not caught her eye.

Elsa slammed her pen on her notebook just as the professor went in.

Her eyes never strayed to the back of the room until she was able to step out of the room.

* * *

Jack never really liked libraries, but he was bored to death and his shift at the diner was yet to start. It was the only place he could think of where he could take a nap without overdoing it. Max would give him hell for lying around; that bugger has got a stick shoved up his ass. Jamie, ever the geek, found a friend in one of the boys from his math class. It was by luck that they are in the same course and that they got the same schedule. Flynn was wherever he is, probably causing a ruckus somewhere in the campus. He really didn't want to know.

He strode down the largest hallway of the library, a pencil and sketchpad at hand. If sleep doesn't find him, maybe an inspiration will so he could start filling up Mrs. Bennett's Christmas present. He could draw the diner, but her aunt wouldn't like to see anything that would remind her of his father or Max. Maybe drawing the intersection from his window would be better. Or the view of the campus from the gates.

Or that girl from the diner, the one who sits beside his cousin in math class, the one perfectly bathed by sunlight on an early morning.

For some reason, the girl has some sort of aversion to him.

Well, he's not that horrendous to look at. If he were to be honest, he's okay. A bit on the thin side, but he's strong enough to fend for himself. Flynn always teased him for his hair, but who cares about that ass. He shared the same eyes as Jamie, but Sophie – Jamie's sister – always told him that girls can lose themselves in his eyes _just like my friends do whenever they see you. _He draws well, proof of which is his acceptance in the fine arts program of the university. He performed above average in other subjects _except chemistry, damn those elements. _Jack wasn't some dream guy girls fantasize about, but he _could snag some hot chick 'round that corner, _in Flynn's words.

His friend should stop living vicariously through him, really. It's not like Max would kick the boy's ass for hitting on some girl as long as he keeps his head on the diner.

Admittedly, it bothered him to be disliked when he's done nothing to deserve it. He's amenable – _too amenable, _said Jamie – and good-hearted. He's helpful and generous and fun to be with. Maybe the girl's just shy, in need of some coaxing before she befriends someone. It really shouldn't be that bothersome if she doesn't want to be his friend, but something tells him that he has to know her.

Jack randomly turned to the next corner.

_Speaking of the devil—_

The girl was tiptoeing as she reached for a book just above her head. It would have been an easy feat if the book was thinner your normally handy textbook. His eyes scanned the aisle for some stand to aid the girl, but nothing was in sight. He noticed the neatly placed pile near her feet, and thought that she had enough respect for books not to step on them to boost her height. Jack decided to be a gentleman, approaching the girl and easing the book out of its home.

"Thanks—"

Blue eyes landed in his dark pools. The look was so casual, it made Jack smile genuinely.

"No problem."

If Jack wasn't as close as he is, he wouldn't have noticed the passing changes in the girl's features.

If there was one thing he learned about drawing a person, it was to capture his emotions at sight and to hold on to it to immortalize with ink or watercolor or graphite, may it be sadness or happiness, contentment or loss, hopefulness or grief. To make art is an interpretation, and for the minute he gazed at this woman, she's given him more than a handful of emotions to dissect.

Surprise, wonder, disbelief, anguish, among other things.

In the end, she settled to barricade herself with a wall.

She left Jack to keep the ball rolling.

"You look familiar. Math class with Bunnmund?" Jack asked, face scrunched as if in deep thought.

The girl opened her mouth, but opted to nod.

Jack beamed lightly, "I saw you sitting next to my cousin, Jamie. He's painfully shy, so I apologize for his sake if he did anything to embarrass himself while talking to you."

Elsa dropped to the ground to grab her things, "He's been kind and amicable. He's a good seatmate."

"Well, if he does anything, just call me and I'll smack him for you." Jack offered a hand, "I'm Jack, by the way."

The girl's hand was stuck beneath her books. Jack slapped himself mentally. He did, however, notice how the books slightly trembled in her arms.

She took his hands into hers after a moment of thinking.

"Elsa."

As he shook her hands, he marveled at its uneven softness and coolness. He could feel a callous in one of her fingers, and the lightness of her grip. She still shook his hand; it said a lot about her not completely disliking him. _There is this idea called politeness, dumbo. _

He didn't let go her hand immediately.

Elsa sighed, her eyebrows furrowing. "Uh, I actually have to go to class in a few minutes." She released her hand from his grip.

"Sorry, I get overly excited when I meet new people." Jack smiled sheepishly, scratching his nape. His hand was tingling. "Enjoy your class."

Elsa bit her lip, nodding. "I'll see you in math, Jack."

* * *

Edna strode on the carpeted floors of his husband's floor, waving genially to the employees that greeted her as they walked towards the other direction. It was lunch time, and customary to her husband's workers, they would eat together in the break room.

Spending her lunch hour with her husband has become tradition for the two of them since she returned to work after knowing about Sandy.

It was how they started to fix the sham they called a relationship. It was a beginning of sorts. The first time he went to her office while she caught up with the projects she missed after the accident, she told herself that this would be real this time. No more secrets that kept on coming after them. No more inhibitions that held them back. No more assumptions that only contributes to worsen their situations.

The relationship would not only be for the sake of their children, but for themselves as well.

When she was younger, she wondered how you just fall for someone.

Intuition didn't fail her.

Lost in thought, she arrived at her husband's room, noticing that he wasn't there. There was a post-it note stuck on the table – _Washroom. Be back in a few. _Edna nodded to herself and began arranging her husband's table for the meal.

"Mr. Arende—"

"Oh, hey Pitch," Edna greeted the newcomer. "Gideon just went out for a while. Have you eaten? "

"Edna, hello," Pitch bowed slightly to her direction. "I'm just dropping some forms for Mr. Arendelle. I have a lunch meeting after this."

Edna nodded, "Alright. You could place it there," she pointed on the top of the cabinet behind her husband's swivel chair. "I'll tell him you dropped by when he returns."

Edna was used to Pitch coming by once in a while. The former assistant of her husband was promoted as head of the Finance Division of the company, which made him less visible these days. The man was a delight to invite in their house, his usually subdued persona being challenged by her children, especially Anna.

As he was placing the files where she instructed him too, she noticed the other file he was holding. It was on a clear file case, so she couldn't exactly say she snooped. It was by accident that she read _St. Bartholomew's Rehabilitation and Wellness Home _eyed neatly on the document Pitch was holding.

Between bites, Edna asked, "How's Pitch? You know, we've been inviting him in our house for so long, but he has never actually brought along a guest. Maybe we could have him and his family some time this month?"

Gideon looked at her pointedly, "As far as I know, Pitch's family died when was younger."

Her husband's answer rang on her ears.


	14. 13: few steps more and i'll lose myself

**Note: Owns nothing.**

_Trapid, it's okay. Don't stress yourself out by not reading this as soon as possible. :) Can you tell me more about Elsa being in a one-sided plane? Thank you so much for that compliment. You've made my day. I believe that writing is one way to define your identity, and that it takes a lot of practice. You are unique, and you're a good writer in your own way. You'll find your own voice one of these days. Keep on writing so you can train yourself to be the best writer that you can be. :)_

_I know I've been focusing on Jack/Elsa at this point in the story, but I'll get to the loose ends soon. Enjoy!_

* * *

Elsa sighed as she shut the door to her room.

Jack has a habit of coming to class on time or a few minutes late, which she reckoned was advantageous at first but his presence surprised her. They share two classes - one with Jamie, one without – but it was still suffocating for her, like someone made her prisoner in a cell with walls written with his name and his stench lingering in the air. She wanted to scrub her skin until it's raw, if only could remove the burns he inflicted with his gaze.

She doesn't like his attention. He was too curious.

"Open up, Elsie!" Someone knocked the door hardly. "I know you're there! I saw you entering the room! Stop being such a grouch, it's Friday!"

Sometimes, she really hates being friends with Tooth.

Elsa opened the door and flashed a blank look to her friend.

"You're sulking again, aren't you?" Tooth went inside, her strides confident as she reached the couch.

"I'm not. I jusr want to take a nap."

"But it's Friday. You can sleep all you want tonight," Tooth whined.

"Kai will be fetching me early tomorrow so that Gerda could clean the place while I spend the weekend at home. I'll be packing my things later," Elsa reasoned out, entering her room. Her lips pursed at the sight of haphazard manner her books and other things were arranged.

"Please, Elsie? Aren't you even a bit interested on what's happening to Punzie's lovelife?" Tooth followed inside her room, lying on Elsa's bed.

"Punzie has a love life?" She asked disbelievingly. Her cousin had always been too innocent for her own good. Truthfully, Tooth's news sent her ears perked up.

"Yes, and he's irresistible," Tooth moaned. "Gosh, what a lucky woman."

Elsa rolled her eyes as she opened her closet. She's curious, but she didn't want to change her plans. _But it's Punzie, and it's not every day she gets swept off her feet just as Tooth is implying._

She huffed in surrender. "Fine, but it's your treat."

Tooth squealed, hugging her as she was dragged by her wrist away from the shelter of her room.

It was a sunny afternoon, and Elsa was glad she opted for some light and pale-colored clothes. Tooth held her arm and continued gushing about how proud she is of Punzie having a "boytoy". Elsa could only roll her eyes.

Rapune, affectionately called Punzie by her family and friends, was more sheltered than Elsa and Anna combined. It mostly had something to do with her father holding a position of power for most of her life. When they were younger, it saddened her not to usually spend time with Punzie, with their interaction mostly done through letters, e-mails, and video calls. Aside from Tooth, she's one of the few people Elsa is comfortable to be with outside of her immediate family. One summer, she was allowed to spend a month in their house because of a lengthy state visit by her parents. It became tradition ever since.

They reached the same intersection she and Sandy visited during her first day in the area.

"What are we doing here?" Elsa looked at the door cautiously. With the start of classes, the diner business began to boom.

The bell tinkled as Tooth pushed the door. The chatter of students rose against the song that flittered from the sound system. The smell of coffee and fried food permeated the air, giving the place a homey feel. Men in uniform zoomed in and out of the aisles, placing orders on the table and cleaning the tables left behind. Elsa recognized the head of brown hair cleaning the first booth from the door.

"Jamie!" Tooth called. Her classmate's head whiplashed towards their direction.

Jamie walked towards them, a cheerful smile in his lips. "Tatiana, what are you doing here?" His eyes swerved to her, widening a little. "Elsa, hey. You knew each other?"

"Tooth is my best friend," Elsa explained.

"Tooth, huh?" Jamie looked at Tooth again. "That's really...cute." Elsa noticed the red pooling in his cheeks.

Tooth scoffed teasingly at her, before slinging her arm on Jamie's shoulder. _Jamie would have a coronary if Tooth doesn't stop her advances._"Thank you, Jamie. Now, where's that pretty friend of mine?"

"At the kitchen," Jamie mumbled as they began walking. "Probably kicking Flynn's ass."

Elsa gazed at Tooth accusingly, "Punzie's working here?"

Tooth nodded, "She told me she hates being so secluded at our room. She has time in her hands. Don't sweat it, Elsie. Her parents were informed, and they thought it's a good idea. Besides, Punzie cooks well."

"You should've told that sooner."

"You would know if you haven't been hiding in your room in the last few days," Tooth reasoned back. Elsa bit back a wince. She didn't miss how Jamie's eyes flashed to her, his gaze questioning.

Elsa exhaled thankfully when she heard a groan (even if it's an obvious sign of someone getting hurt).

When Jamie pushed the kitchen doors, Elsa covered her mouth to hide the bubbling laughter that threatened to escape her lips.

Punzie was staring down at the person she hit with a pan, her eyes shining ferociously. With her hair pinned up, sweat beads clinging on her forehead, and her chest heaving, one would think she was fighting someone. When her thoughts finally clicked, Punzie gasped before her eyes narrowed in irritation.

"I told you not to take me by surprise," the pan-wielding blonde yelled, not even looking a bit apologetic.

Elsa's eyes were directed to the man on the floor, who was clutching his abdomen. Recognition dawned on her – Flynn, the creepy waiter who took their orders the first time she visited the diner. No wonder Punzie hit him. _And Tooth said Punzie was lucky._

"You're such a sadist, blondie," Flynn rolled to his side. He finally noticed their presence. His pain was set aside as his transformed with a supposedly-alluring smile. "Well, well. We have company."

Punzie's eyes followed his. "Elsie!" She let go of the pan, which dropped it on Flynn's foot. The man's eyes watered. Punzie rushed to her, grasping her hands. Elsa couldn't help but smile at the enthusiasm of her cousin.

"I'm her roommate, and I'm chopped liver," Tooth grunted.

"I'm so glad you're here! Do you want French toast or pancakes? Maybe burger or fries? It's on the house. I'll let that buffoon answer for it after scaring me."

Elsa chuckled, "Isn't that buffoon your boss?"

"No. And he never will be!" Punzie snarled at Flynn, who was attempting to stand.

"Is he the 'love life' Tooth was talking about?" Elsa asked teasingly. Punzie's eyes narrowed again, searching for her roommate. The girl was smart enough to be out of sight, possibly dragging Jamie with her.

"He isn't. As if that pug-face is worth staring at."

"Hey!" Flynn interjected. His eyes wavered at Elsa. "I know you," he pointed at her. "Aren't you the one with the kid?"

"He's my brother," Elsa informed him.

Flynn nodded, "Talented kid, that one. My friend's impressed. Can't stop babbling about seeing the little boy draw." He sent her a wink.

Elsa has a sinking feeling about who that friend is.

She nodded at Flynn appreciatively, "Thanks. Sandy would love to hear that." She looked at her watch, "I really need to go back outside. I'm taking too much of your time."

"Aww, Elsie! Stay here! We'll let you eat in the break room." Punzie lowered her voice, "Just don't leave me with this man. My father won't be impressed if I kill him."

She really should learn how to say no to her cousin.

Punzie dragged her to the break room, shouting "Two orders of pancakes, Rider! And two chocolate milkshakes!" before switching the light on and letting her in.

There is a round table in the middle of the room, with the table cleared save for a thick textbook. The cabinet against the wall was filled to the brim with snacks, the fridge stationed beside it. A corkboard placed on one side, pinned with numerous announcements. There's a couch on the far end of the room, and a long body was resting on it.

That pale hair was unmistakably recognizable even with the face covered with a notebook.

Elsa was surprised when Punzie casually strolled towards the couch and prodded the man's ribs. "Jackie boy, does your cousin know you're hiding here?" Punzie asked.

The man groaned, flipping his notebook away. It landed on the floor. "Let Jamie do the work. I've covered his shifts in the past two days," his voice was garbled with his face against the pillow, but it rang loud and clear in Elsa's ears.

"Tooth is here. Jamie won't be doing any work with her around!"

"Don't care," his face turned to its side. Elsa has an unobstructed view of his sleeping face.

She is reminded of the unconscious boy in a blue room who never woke up. _He woke up, Elsa._

She sighed heavily, turning away. Just as she decided to go out of the room, Flynn came to the room.

"Pancakes for blondie and the pretty lady!" He presented the tray with such lavish, lying it on the table. Flynn noticed Punzie, who was crouched beside the couch, and the sleeping boy.

"Hey frostie, wakey wakey!" He hastily smacked the boy's back. His peaceful features crumpled. A pale eyelid opened, showing a brown orb flashing in irritation. Then it turned to her direction.

Jack immediately sat up.

"Wow, I haven't seen you wake up that fast," Flynn commented. He followed Jack's eyes, an idea dawning on him. Elsa saw his smirk.

"Hello Jack," Elsa opted to greet him out of politeness.

"Hey Elsa. Didn't expect to see you here," he stood up from the couch, running his fingers in the pale mop of hair.

She smiled curtly, "Apparently, my cousin works here."

"Oh, this rabid woman?" he asked, pointing at Punzie. Her cousin scowled jokingly. Elsa nodded.

"Shut up, Jack. I'll sic Jack into you. Or Max. He loves me," Punzie pushed Jack as sat on the monoblock and started eating her share of pancakes. She motioned Elsa to join her.

Both boys scowled.

"Go away now boys," Punzie waved her hands to the direction of the door.

Just as Jack was to exit the room, he stopped. "Elsa?"

Elsa looked up.

"Do you already have a partner for the design final project?"

Elsa shook her head.

Jack lifted his hand to his nape, rubbing the area. "Well, I saw your freehand assignment the other day and thought that your concept matches mine. So, will it be fine to be your partner?"

Their class in design was the one she spends with Jack outside their coincidentally converging circle of friends. She was unable to see the works of her classmates, but was aware of Jack's snooping habit. She could come up with excuses, from naming some random person in their class to wanting to work on her own. But Punzie was there. That girl was trained by Tooth to observe, and she would certainly not miss her lie should she choose to say so.

Maybe she's just a sucker for torture.

Rearranging her masked features, she turned to Jack, "Sure."

His boyish smile left her butterflies fluttering against her rib cage. She just hoped Punzie mistook her sigh for smelling the coffee.

* * *

The next day came quickly, with Elsa putting her interaction with Jack at the back of her mind. She'll deal with it when the next week arrives.

When she was younger, Elsa, together with her mother and Anna, would visit Mr. North's orphanage, which is situated a few miles away from the city. It all began after they discovered Olaf, who was sent to the man's care. Her mother has always stood as an advocate for children, spearheading fundraisers and setting up a foundation which collaborates with most of the social institutions near their area. It was a good cause, and at her young age, Elsa was drawn to it. Abandonment always had that appeal to her.

Anna was still sleeping, her head on their mother's lap. Elsa looked outside, her eyes unwavering as they passed miles of greenery. She would capture the blur later; scratch her pencil on her sketchbook in lines of varying weights. It would be good to try another style, maybe incorporate it on her own to produce something new. _You're just saying this to get Jack off your back._

"How was your first week at the university, Elsa?" her mother asked.

"It's fine. I enjoy my classes. I was able to adjust easily to the schedule," Elsa answered, looking at her mother. "I suppose you didn't just ask me that out of nowhere."

Edna smirked knowingly.

"Whatever you learned, it's nothing."

"I only heard that some of the sons of the family's peers are studying at the university too. One of these days, they will approach you and begin asking questions. Don't wave your hand offhandedly to then when they do."

Elsa's face scrunched at the thought of those boys with their starched shirts and battalion of admirers. She doesn't need unnecessary evils in life, like women she doesn't know coming after her simply because they talked to whoever her mom was pertaining to. "I am always polite to strangers, mom."

"Don't ridicule a mother's intuition, little queen. You'll be one someday. Only then will you understand what I am talking about," Elsa could hear the undertone of worry in her mother's voice.

Their conversation was taking a different tone, and Elsa could only gaze outside. _I've found Jack, mom. He's alive and well and real. He's always around me, and I can't stay away. I'm a moth attracted to flame. I don't want the rich boys you're talking about. I also don't want him, but he's here. He hasn't been a part of my life for a long time, no matter how pivotal his role is to the person I am._

"I'm not going to fool around, mom. I didn't choose this path to disappoint you and dad."

Elsa felt her mother's hands enclose hers. "You will always have the freedom of choice, Elsa. Your father and I, we've let other people decide for us. It only made our journey more gruelling before we told ourselves that this is our life to live, not anyone else's."

Elsa was well-aware of her parents' story, having heard it from her mother a long time ago. An arranged marriage was drawn to ensure the merging of their family companies. Being the first to graduate among their brood, Elsa would be handling her fair share of the company earlier and would be obligated to strengthen its ties.

"The company has to come first, when the time comes. I will be ready to take responsibility for it." _Because I don't want my choice. My choice ceased becoming one when I grew out of the childhood where it should belong._

Edna tugged her hand, grabbing her attention. Her mother looked at her in the eyes. "Stay safe for me, will you? Always be sharp and decisive. You're still young. Your father can still handle the company, but you're slowly getting into it. I need you to make the right choices someday, Elsa."

"I'll do my best," Elsa squeezed her hand back.

They reached their destination a few minutes past eight in the morning. It is a manor her mother was able to secure years ago, its brick walls and white pillars exuding a friendly feel. The garden lining the front face of the manor was well-tended. She could see some of the children running around at the huge grass plot around the manor. When the car stopped, the door opened and a figure in white latched to her side of the car in a blur.

"Elsa! Elsa! You're here! I missed you!" The figure bobbed up and down before hugging her waist.

Elsa brushed his hair affectionately, "Hello Olaf. You've grown."

Olaf might only be a few years younger than her, but the boy has always latched to her from the moment she held her in his arms. Albeit six years younger, the boy has grown taller than her (much to her displeasure). He would, after hugging, twirl her like some ragged doll, which makes Elsa nauseous.

But she never told him not to hold her. She has always treated Olaf like a brother.

"What did I tell you, lad? Stop bangin' the door! The old geezer will wring my neck!" A man in denim jumper went after Olaf. Sweat trickled his forehead, and he wiped it with the back of his hand as he approached them. His eyes were drawn to the woman behind Elsa.

"Ah! There's the lassie! C'mere!" He motioned Edna to come closer. Her mother hugged the man.

"Thank you for having us today, Phil."


	15. 14 - to chances

**Note: Does not own Frozen or Rise of the Guardian.**

_I apologize for the delay of this chapter. I've been watching (again and again and again) Downton Abbey in the past week. I'll do my best to hopefully come up with a schedule of how I'll manage my stories with the university classes resuming. I hope you enjoy this chapter. If you have any queries or comments, just fire away and I'll do my best to get back to them._

* * *

"What's on your mind missy?"

Edna blew the steam coming from her cup of tea as her eyes gaze pensively on the large expanse of grass from the window. Olaf was chasing Elsa, the older girl's braided hair flying in the air like tightly coiled golden threads. From the height of where she stood, she could faintly hear the boy's shrieks of joy.

He has been such an amicable child.

She has known Olaf all his life, had in his childhood changed his nappies and feed him in a bottle and taught Elsa how, as her daughter had expressed much enthusiasm on being involved in Olaf's care. Their family had been very attached to the boy, and had wanted to adopt him if not for the crisis her marriage was facing.

But the boy has been in an excellent state. She made a good call.

"Actually, I brought along Elsa to hide her from my husband. She's too young to be drawn to the family company simply because she has a knack for doing the things they do." Her hands entwined, resting on the windowsill. "I was alarmed by your message this week."

Turning back, she saw Mr. North pouring on their cups. "Ah. I did not mean to, but it's a very curious thing. Call it intuition."

"What has been happening?"

"You are aware of the machinations of the foundation, how we support orphanages and shelter homes and rally for them. The last few years, I've been working on the administrative side of things, but my eye doesn't miss a thing. I have done this all my life, you know, and I am confident that something is going on."

Edna took the seat across Mr. North. Her eyebrows furrowed, "What have you discovered?"

"It's on an event, you see, for that women's home about a month ago. I brought Olaf along because he was to play for them, and I noticed how he was drawn to this frazzled-looking woman."

Chill ran down her bones. Edna sipped her tea, attempting to relieve the tension she is feeling. "What of this woman?"

"She's been in the home for quite some time. I have not seen her then, but she's one of their special cases. The day of the event, they told me it's a good day and she's lucid. They had her included in the audience. After Olaf performed, he sat by her side and just spent the whole time with her. Now, I do not begrudge her for her...state. But I have seen her somewhere, and she's not good news."

Edna inhaled sharply, the pieces of Mr. North's story coming into full circle. Excluding Gideon, Mr. North was one person he had trusted of the story of her and Gideon's almost fall-out. She had asked him a favor, and had come clean of all the evidences with her.

"It's Gothel, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry, my dear," Mr. North reached for her trembling hand. "Olaf has not asked about her. His curiosity, I believe, has wavered after the event. But I continued to dig around for clues. You've said that your search for Olaf's parents had gone dry, but maybe your investigators had searched for clues on the wrong person."

Edna covered her mouth in shock. "But Olaf is such a good boy. She couldn't be his mother."

"I do not like this any more than you do," Mr. North shared. "He might have been her flesh and blood, but he is my son. I promised to protect him, and I will do so."

* * *

Edna wanted to believe him, but she knew better than to wage war with a mad woman.

When Elsa arrived her father's office, she was taken aback by the pile that sat on his desk.

"Uncle Pitch told me to come here after the tour," she informed her father.

"Yes. I want you to look at some of our new projects. Take this as a sort of advance study. You are studying the basics this year, and I hope by having you here in the company we'll have a good set of fresh eyes."

Elsa shook her head, "You're flattering me, dad. I do not think Uncle Pitch will agree with that."

"Really? Why so?" His father's eyes deserted the document he was reading.

Elsa liked to think that she has self-worth, and that no one could bully her into making her decisions. She accepted the invitation for the tour on their latest site as accompanied by her uncle. For as long as she could remember, Uncle Pitch – Mr. Black now, if she were to detach herself and try not to feel offended by his insinuations – has always been kind to her. He is a strict worker, very keen about deadlines and details, and cunning in dealing with clients and employees alike.

She never envisioned that the day would come when she would be the subject of his...ridicule, so to speak.

During their tour, she had kept her questions to herself, for fear of finding them insignificant. Truthfully, her mind was divided into a million thoughts – from the foundation, to her family (her mother told her that Anna has a new boyfriend who their father does not approve. Having Sandy lug the man was saying something), to her school work, to her friendships. It had been quite an overwhelming week, and she wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone. Still, she kept her eyes and ears sharp, involving herself in conversations about the work and providing input.

He did not have to tell her to _stop being ungrateful of this opportunity, Elsa. You might be your father's daughter and the probable heiress of the company before Sandy, but you are just a child, an inexperienced child in this field of work. You have no business in this._

"He doesn't like an idea I shared. It's merely a suggestion. You've been teaching me this for a while now. I am meant to have an opinion or two," she reasoned out.

"Pitch has been in a lot of pressure these days. I'll speak to him about this, and I hope you'll make your peace with him."

"Is that why you transferred him elsewhere? To get a rise out of him?"

Gideon observed her daughter, aware that she is not to be fooled. For years, Gideon worked with Pitch side by side, taking the man under his wing. Suddenly, it seemed like he threw him to the wolves.

"I have my reasons, Elsa. I am still trying to get to the bottom of it, but I will tell you," Gideon explained. "You are my dear girl, Elsa, and I've trusted you to fend for yourself."

Elsa nodded.

"Don't let Pitch get to you. He has been changing, that much I've learned from some members of his staff. I need you to promise me to keep your distance. He's been in charge of your studies here, but I am getting you off his team. Kai will be with you, and you will be with us."

"That will be amenable."

His father looked at him warmly, "You will always be my girl, Elsa. My little queen."

Elsa barely held her tears.

* * *

When Jack met her after class at the staff room of the diner on Monday afternoon, she gave him a tired smile.

"I'm sorry I was unable to talk this weekend," Elsa apologized, placing her bag down the table. She covered her mouth, hiding her yawn. She had been up at the crack of dawn, reading for one of her subjects while finishing the pie she baked.

He waved his hand offhandedly, frowning as he caught sight of the dark shadows under her eyes. "It's nothing. I was just brainstorming about what we can do for the project. I can be quite over the top and downright weird, but you surely can make things more economical and functional."

"Queer is good. I can use some fun," she yawned again, pressure building in her temples. She pressed her thumb against the site of pain to assuage it.

"Are you sure you're up to this today?" Jack inquired, looking at her worriedly. She braved the thundering in her chest and nodded.

"I just got a lousy weekend. I'll be fine. Hand me the sketch."

She took in the details of his draft, going through every part of the image. She occasionally closed her eyes, imagining how his drawing would appear in real life. Truly, he had a knack for adventures, making experimental changes to the common setting of a house. She jotted and made her own lines alongside his, the ink of her pen against the powder of his graphite. He sketched him complementary features, adding her own tidbits and scribbling her own ideas beside Jack's.

Jack was right; they would make a good pair.

The pang in her chest is unexpected and indescribable.

As she turned the sketchpad back to Jack, Elsa observed him as he mused on the details she added. Indeed, she could be very intricate, which was what her father was pondering on. After he had her interning in their family company, he had been opening Elsa to the idea of envisioning the greater picture. Although being able to grasp the notion, she still could not let go of old habits, and they always slipped through the cracks that fortified her knowledge on things.

"This will be beautiful," Jack murmured under his breath, long, slender fingers tracing the lines in the paper with its pads. The edge of his eyes crinkled in excitement.

"You are a good artist and a creative planner, Jack," she commended.

"I will be lost without you," he replied.

_I think I was lost without you, _echoed in her mind. Blue swam in her vision, but she swallowed her surprise. This is not about the past only she can remember for the two of them. This is simply pure gratitude between colleagues...friends. "I shall do my best to stay then."

He looked at her, bright eyes lingering in the slopes of her features. Elsa felt her hand tremble from under the table. She clenched her fist, in hopes of assuaging the want to reach for his face. The tension almost singed her skin, his nerves left spared to feel how it crackled in the air.

He gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Even for dinner?"

She hardly remembered food for tonight. Tooth and Punzie would usually bring groceries at her room and have her cook, but maybe for one night they could fend for themselves. This is a chance she never thought she would have, she was too scared to take, and yet it was presented to her. God, if Jack only knew how it relieved her of the weight in her chest, or how nervous she is as her stomach fluttered.

Elsa gave him a small smile, "Even for dinner."


End file.
